


Lying Deep in Fantasy

by SimplyRed



Series: Oneshot Books [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Asphyxiation, Drinking, F/F, F/M, Fake!engagement au, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Making Out, One Shot Collection, Other, Please read rules and then request!, Possessive Behavior, Possibly Unrequited Love, Rating May Change, Reader insert series, References to Alcohol, Sexual Tension, Slice of Life, Smut, Stalking, Stargazing, Strangers to Lovers, Tension, Unprotected Sex, Unrequited Love, Yandere, Yandere Themes, being held a lot by raihan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 46,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26211670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyRed/pseuds/SimplyRed
Summary: Reader Insert series/collection for Pokémon Sword/Shield! Feel free to come by, request a story, and enjoy the little fantasies I’ve created!—Also on Tumblr @salandition !
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Reader, Hop (Pokemon)/Reader, Kibana | Raihan/Reader, Mary | Marnie/Reader, Nezu | Piers (Pokemon)/Reader, Rurina | Nessa/Reader, Sonia/Reader, Yarrow | Milo/Reader
Series: Oneshot Books [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974502
Comments: 33
Kudos: 310





	1. Information and Requests

Hello! This is the first chapter full of some rules for you all if you’d like to request. And please request on this chapter only! You can see the characters I’m willing to write for above in the characters and relationship section. Besides that, thanks so much for coming, and I hope you enjoy your time!   
  


—-

☆ NSFW is allowed only for characters aged 18+  
  


☆ LGBTQ+ requests allowed and encouraged!

☆ This series allows darker prompts like yandere. If dark plots disturb you, there will always be warnings in the notes before the chapter. Feel free to request them if you’re a fan!   
  


☆ Reader is typically gender-neutral, even in smut, unless otherwise specified in the prompt or request.   
  


☆ Polyamorous requests also accepted for up to 3 characters! in these requests, though, no incest, and no pairing the adults with the children. Thank you.   
  


☆ That’s it! Thank you! 


	2. Raihan - A bit odd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request on Tumblr from Anon: Raihan cuddling an s/o like a foot shorter than him. Do it coward

Honestly, there’s a lot of words you can use to describe Raihan. There are the flattering ones, of course- comments that you’ll usually find on his social media pages: handsome, strong, athletic, and so on and so forth. But to describe the man and his actual physical form... Well, the term ‘tall glass of water’ is something he probably hears every single day. Because he really, really is.   
  


You just like to say he's a whole lotta leg, though. Because it’s a true statement and it doesn’t feed into his ego, since Arceus knows that he already has too much of that. Even if he likes to act suave and indifferent to public opinion, you know better. His ego could certainly match Leon’s, easy.   
  


Because of this, he’s cocky. Especially around his friends, where his true personality flourishes and he abandons his public persona (a persona that some call ‘mildly feral’. You agree with that description). And out of his shell, he’s exactly that. Cocky, smart, and a bit of a cuddler, actually.   
  


You’ve seen him wrap an arm around Leon, Piers (when the man doesn’t shove him off, that is), Nessa- any of his friends, really. He likes to stand close and hover over everyone’s shoulders, too. And he’s certainly wrapped an arm around you before- but like most people that can’t rival his height, it’s not as much an arm around the shoulders as it is a warm palm pressed between your shoulders. You can’t help it that you’re so much shorter than him. The contact is always nice, though, so you don’t complain.   
  


You’re not really sure how you feel about his recent development, though.   
  


Unlike the rest of Raihan’s friends, you’re not a Pokemon trainer or Gym Leader. Sure, you have Pokemon, and sometimes you’ll train them just to help with their energy, but you don’t really participate in battles. So you’re not often around the Gyms, but sometimes you go to watch battles or to pick Raihan up after work so the two of you can hang out. Today you had done just that- the receptionist recognized you when you headed into the lobby of the Hammerlocke Gym and let you access the backstage-area which acted like a locker room of sorts. There's a few couches and chairs, a vending machine full of snacks and drinks, and then- of course- lockers to hold the items of the Leader and his assistants.   
  


No one was in the room when you walked in, so you decided to rest on one of the couches, leaning on the arm of it as you scroll on your phone and wait for Raihan. A little boring, yes. Eventually you got up to get a drink from the vending machine, and then headed right back to your spot.   
  


You eventually swung your legs up on the couch- after removing your shoes, because you don’t want to get it dirty. Only a few more minutes drag on until you’re pulled into a light rest.   
  


A rest that is abruptly interrupted by something falling directly onto you- or rather, someone.   
  


You wheeze as you wake up, the weight on you disorienting as your eyes shoot open and find Raihan squirming on top of you. “Raihan!” You groan from under him, and then cough when he accidentally knees your stomach. “Arceus, what on Earth are you doing-”  
  


“Sorry,” he says, but the impish grin on his face looks anything but. “You just looked so comfortable- scoot over, would you?”   
  


“What do you mean, scoot over?” Despite your confusion, your body naturally starts to move to make room for him, and he slides into the space provided between you and the cushions. He loudly sighs as his shoulder wiggles under you, and eventually he has you lying on his lean chest with his long arms surrounding you and his legs weaving between yours. “Raihan-”   
  


“You’re like a stuffed animal,” The dragon-leader snorts in amusement, continuing to hold you against him.   
  


“It’s not my fault that you’re a giant!”   
  


“It’s cute, don’t worry about it,” Raihan smiles, one of his arms leaving you to wiggle under his head so he can rest against it. “So, how’re you?”  
  


You give him a look, your eyebrows creasing as you purse your lips. “A bit odd, to be honest.” He meets your eyes.   
  


“Really? How come?”

You roll your eyes at him. “I wonder.” Your fingers wander to his torso and pinch him over his clothes. “Weren’t we going to go to lunch?”

The pinch doesn’t even affect him as he just swats your hand and pulls it around him, and you try to ignore how hot your face feels. “Yeah, but I’m tired from working. We’ll go later.”   
  


“If you really want to rest, I should just go-”  
  


“Don’t.” He interrupts you, and when you look up at him, his eyes are closed. Raihan’s body sinks into the couch cushions. “Just lay down for a bit. You already were.”   
  


You can’t really argue with that. Despite how odd it is that Raihan suddenly ambushed you, it’s not really a bad thing. For how skinny he is, he’s oddly comfortable and warm, but you have a feeling that’s mostly because of his hoodie. “...I guess.” Slowly, you let yourself relax against him on the small space of the couch, your head resting on his shoulder.   
  


Raihan’s always been a cuddler to a certain degree, you knew this. But this really caught you off guard. You can feel Raihan’s laugh before you hear it, and it makes your face even warmer.   
  


It’s really ridiculous how much of a limb-monster this man is. Not the most flattering choice of words, but again, it’s true. Laying with him like this makes it really obvious how different your bodies are, and just how much he surrounds you makes your stomach do flustered flips.   
  


“You’re odd, Raihan.” You mumble against his sweater, and once again you can feel his laugh that moves through his chest.   
  


“You’re just comfortable, is all. But yeah,” he nods, and you can feel as he fumbles around just a bit more so his cheek presses against the top of your head. “I am pretty odd, aren’t I?”

Truer words have never been said. 


	3. Piers - Raining in Spikemuth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon requested some fluff for Piers, so I tried to provide! Small Drabble, but very cute and simple.

It’s raining in Spikemuth.

Rain was typical, given that the city was so close to the shore. It took a bit of getting used to at first because you had moved in from a much sunnier town, but now that you live here, you wouldn’t give up the dreary rainy days for anything.

They were comfortable. The sound of the pattering on the window and ceiling, the smell it brings in the air... to put it simply, rainy days were just nice. 

Piers thinks so too, if his little smile is anything to go off of as he sits by the window, his tired eyes looking at something outside that you can’t see from your spot in the kitchen. 

You pick up two ceramic mugs, both steaming at the top, and your bare feet lightly tap on the hardwood floors as you walk over to him. Once you stand close and Piers notices you beside him, he takes the cup you’re offering with a small murmur of thanks. 

He takes a sip, and then immediately recoils at the burn on his tongue, and you hold back your laugh. 

“It’s fresh,” you comment. Piers looks back at you. 

“Yeah?”

You snort. “Besides the burn, is it good?”

You doubt he actually tasted anything, but regardless, he answers right away. “It always is.” The zigzazoon in Piers lap perks up, it’s nose raising in the air and sniffing until he scoots forward toward Piers cup and then, in disgust, scowls and hops off. “...maybe not for him, though.”

“Too much of a sweet tooth,” you tut and smile as the Pokémon scampers away, down the hall and most likely into Marnie’s room. Silence fills the room steadily and you sit next to Piers on the floor. It’s not the most comfortable, but neither of you really seem to mind as you sit and stare out the window as it continues to rain. Eventually you place your cup on the floor in front of you and Piers hums as he looks at it. 

“Tea today?” He noticed. Usually you didn’t really want tea, favored coffee like he did. You tuck your knees against your chest as you shrug. 

“Tea suits the rain more than coffee does.”

“Mm,” his lips pull as he squints. “I guess.” 

He never liked tea that much, no matter the weather. You snicker at him quietly at his obvious distaste for your drink. Changing the topic, you ask, “do you have any plans for today?” 

Piers eyes went back to the window. There honestly wasn’t much to look at if you weren’t used to the city brick life- Spikemuth wasn’t like the rest of Galar, really. There was no lucious greenery, instead that was replaced with concrete floors and bricked buildings. The beauty of the city truthfully came from the people inside it, the art they made on the walls and the sounds they provided with their songs. “Probably supposed to train, or talk to the people leading the Gym, something like that.” Piers mumbles, his long, thin fingers tracing the rim of his cup. “Don’t feel like it. Today’s too nice to do all that.” 

“That’s fair enough,” you nod.

“Could go for a walk, though.”

You raise your brow at that. “Are you becoming a romantic? Wanting to woo me with a walk in the rain, maybe serenade me a bit?” You don’t miss how Piers flushes at your teasing- the pink easily contrasting his pale cheeks. You smile. “Just teasing! A walk sounds nice. It’s not raining too hard.”

“After the coffee, though. And your...” His nose scrunches. “Tea. Don’t want it to go cold.” 

“You could try a little harder to hide how much you don’t like tea.”

“It’s just so bitter...”

You laugh again and prop your arm on your knee, resting your hand on your palm as you look at him. “And coffee isn’t?”

“It’s got sugar and cream,” he argues, and you roll your eyes. 

“So does tea.”

“Liar,” he points at your cup. “I don’t see any cream in that.” Like he says, your cup is a clear, brownish color- just water and tea leaves. There’s some sugar in it, but that’s about it. 

“I mean- in general! Not mine!”

Piers just looks away with pursed lips as he hums, and you playfully shove him. He finally chuckles, then, letting you push him and his body sway with the movement. 

Rainy days are some of the best days, in your opinion and in Piers’. 


	4. Raihan - Carry You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from Anon on Tumblr:r-raihan carrying a short!reader bridal style pls 😳😳😳
> 
> yall are SIMPS but so am I

Today has been... busy, to put it mildly.

Your job was a unique one. It wasn’t the flashiest job, and most people didn’t even know you existed, but it was a crucial one that you took seriously. More or less, you were the official nurse of Hammerlocke city- the Gym specifically. Not only did you look over all of the Pokémon that were being trained, but you looked over the trainers as well and patched up any injuries they may have sustained on the sidelines while trying to assist their Pokémon.

People getting hurt in the midst of Pokémon battles happens as much as you’d think it would.

Because of your job, you were rather familiar with all of the gym trainers and the leader, Raihan. They were a funny bunch to be honest, and there was never a dull moment.

The fact that there was never a dull moment is exactly why you’re so exhausted at the end of your day. Every day. These trainers run themselves into the ground- and you in the process.

Not to say you don’t love it! Because you do. Today just seemed to be extra draining for everyone. You were on your feet, consistently handing out medicine for Pokémon and bandaids with gauze for trainers, and then rushing back and forth to keep everybody hydrated at the same time. It was busier because of the fact the Gym Challenge was back in full swing this season, and Raihan seemed determined to give the trainers a run for their money this year.

It was always nice to see Raihan so passionate, though.

By the time he’s decided training is over, it’s past your regular hours. Way, way past, because when you sneak a look at your phone, your eyeballs nearly fall out when you see that it’s past 1am.

And your shift isn’t even over yet! You’ve got to help pack up everything and clean the nurse’s area once everyone leaves. But- you won’t complain. Everyone’s just as tired as you are, you can tell by the loud groans everyone gives when Raihan finally gives the signal that they can go home. You don’t complain- instead you bite the inside of your cheek real hard and get to work.

Tired as you are, you don’t even notice that you’re wobbling in your steps as you walk across the gym and start to put things away. Honestly, you don’t even notice that Raihan stayed- his eyes intently watching you as you worked.

You stumble on your own two feet multiple times, stop to take a breath even more times than that, and quite often you find your eyes shifting out of focus. But you’re fine.

Well, until you find yourself being lifted high into the air, that is.

“Wh-“ you immediately gasp as you’re suddenly in Raihan’s arms- your bosses arms- one of them tucked under your knees and the other wrapped around your back.

“You’re tumbling all over the place,” The Gym Leader looks at you, an amused look in his eye as he smiles down at you. You shrink in his arms as he stares- and then you look down.

Arceus, this man is tall. You’re so high up? How is that possible?

“Uhm-“

He doesn’t even let you ask.

“It’s cute to watch you work so hard, but I’d feel cruel to sit and stare until you fall flat on your face,” Raihan says and begins to walk with you in his arms, abandoning the various items scattered on the turf floor as he heads for the locker rooms. “I’ll help you out a bit.”

You realize rather quickly that simply being in Raihan’s arms is already quite a shock- when he actually starts walking around, carrying you, you feel your face light up as your hands quickly wrap around him to stay stable. And then you feel even more hot because now you’re holding your boss- and this is weird, right? Right?

You start to laugh nervously, looking at anywhere but his bright blue eyes. “Um, well, thank you Raihan but that’s- you really don’t need to carry me! I can definitely walk!”

“But what if I want to carry you?” He hums, and you’re shocked enough that you look up into his eyes, which was a mistake.

They’re absolutely sparkling with charm and mischief. You quickly look away.

“That’s. That’s fine, then. I suppose.” You mutter. He laughs at your response but doesn’t say anything else as he carries you with ease into the locker rooms.

You really don’t want to think about just how easily he’s carrying you because even though he’s skinny looking, Raihan is fit and strong and you can really feel it when you’re against him like this- and this is bad bad bad for your small heart.

“Your locker is this one, yeah?” He walks up to one, and when you nod, he doesn’t even ask before he opens it. He shimmies your weight to one arm, the other one letting go as he cradles you against his side and starts to take out your bag and jacket. You can barely blink in surprise before he has your things around his shoulder and he’s back to carrying you with both arms.

How haven’t you exploded yet?

“Are you going to carry me all the way home?” You sputter nervously as he walks again, toward the lobby. You hope to Arceus that everyone there has left so no one sees you like this.

Raihan laughs again. “Nah, mate, but I’ll wait with you until the taxicab gets here.”

You loosen up a bit in his hold, relaxing knowing he won’t be bombarding into your home like he owns the place. “Oh,” you sigh, “thank you...”

“‘Ts no problem,” thankfully no one is in the Lobby, just as you hoped. When he steps outside, you can feel the cool night air on your cheeks, and usually you’d shiver at the chill, but being so close to Raihan you can barely feel the cold. So you suppose that’s nice. “You’re real small and light, anyway.”

Eugh. You hope the night air helps hide your flustered cheeks.

“...Thanks.”

“Getting comfortable?” Raihan looks down at you again as he stands still in the night air. His tone is teasing, but you explode anyway.

“I- I don’t know! Do you want me to?”

His laughter once again rumbles out into the night air as he throws his head back a bit.

“You’re too easy!” He smiles, big and broad. “I can always let you down.”

“Why’d you pick me up in the first place?”

“Told you. You were wobbling around like a newborn Deerling. Partly my fault with how hard I went on everyone today, so.” You feel him shrug his shoulders. “Wanted to help.”

...That’s kind of him. You spare a quick look up at him again, and when you realize he isn’t looking at you, you keep your gaze there. Raihan has always been kind, so you shouldn’t be surprised, but this is the first time you’re on the blunt receiving end of his kindness. Does he carry around everyone like this? Or is it just because you’re small?

Who knows. Raihan is kind of a wild card with his reasoning.

Blue eyes flick down and meet yours with a smug grin, and you quickly look away again. Just because he’s kind doesn’t mean he’s not smug, too!

You hope the taxi gets here soon.


	5. Leon - Dizzy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated T for the consumption of alcohol, making out while inebriated, and sexual themes. But no smut! Just some good ol tension.
> 
> Male!Reader.

Maybe it was the drinks. Maybe it was the atmosphere- the dancing, the bodies pressing against each other, the neon lighting flashing in the dark room, painting everyone's skin with its fantastical colors. Maybe it was the music that Leon could feel in his core as he was tossed around the crowd, from person to person, his hair sticking to his sweaty neck that glowed pink and blue. 

But something was happening. There was a certain energy in the air, buzzing around the entire bar, and it lit Leon aflame, stumbling and falling as he tried to keep up with it. Keep up with  _ you.  _

You felt untouchable. You looked ethereal- your body and your voice that swayed with the lyrics you sang on stage, guitar in your arms strumming chords that Leon felt vibrate through his spine. Your eyes that trailed him up and down- 

Everything about you was so intoxicating that it might be  _ dangerous _ . 

Raihan was the one that suggested they go out tonight. ‘To loosen up,’ his friend had said. Leon didn’t think he needed to loosen up, he felt just fine, but spending a night out drinking and relaxing with friends didn’t sound like a bad idea. And Nessa had insisted that she ‘knew a place’. The perfect place, apparently. 

That’s what led Leon underground in Spikemuth, to a bar he had no idea even existed; and at first, it was fine. The group sat at their private little booth in the corner because Leon had a reputation of being seen and ruining the vibe with his fans, not that anyone would admit that out loud (besides maybe Raihan). But this place  _ was  _ special. It was dark in the bar, the only light provided was from the neon lamps placed on bar tables, the rings that people wore, and the poles and stands that were on the stage in the back. 

When Leon asked what the stage was for, Raihan said they liked to play music. It wasn’t much later after that when things started to turn. 

The drinks the bar served were full of flavor. Citrusy and sweet, lulling you into a false sense of security that you weren’t _really_ drinking that much alcohol. They seemed to glow as well, leaving your teeth a sticky color, which Leon had laughed at when he first saw it. 

It didn’t seem as funny when it was used against him. 

The champion had gone to the bar alone, ordering the next round of drinks for his table. He was feeling confident with the dark atmosphere and the fact that no one had noticed or pulled him aside yet. The confidence seemed to falter when the bartender asked him what he wanted, and he realized he didn’t know the names of their glowy-type sweet drinks, and it was too dark to read a menu. If a menu even existed.

That’s when someone had slipped behind him. He could feel someone’s chest lightly touching his back as they leaned over, placing a hand on the bar counter beside him. The champion bristled but didn’t say anything as he turned around, expecting it to be Raihan messing with him- 

Instead, he met your eyes, and that’s when the fire in his belly started. 

You didn’t meet his gaze. Your teeth were glowing, like his, and your lips were stained and smeared with purple as you listed several words he wasn’t familiar with to the bartender, and suddenly the man was working, his hands busy as he whipped up several drinks. 

That’s when you looked down at Leon, and he felt like his throat was suddenly drier than it should be. 

“Are you new?” You asked him quietly, only for Leon to hear, and Leon felt the need to suddenly shiver. 

“Ah- I suppose it’s obvious, isn’t it?” He laughs lightly, joking at his clear inexperience with the bar, and your teeth disappear when you smile at him. 

“Just a tad. I don’t mind lending you a hand, though. You should have a good time, this place can get overwhelming,” you lean a little closer, making Leon feel the heat radiating off your body, and it’s making him sweat, “if you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

Leon opens his mouth, but no words come out. Thankfully, he’s saved by the bartender, who places several different drinks on a tray and puts it on the counter. You smile again and push the tray toward him, and Leon looks at you in confusion before reaching back for his wallet. 

You’re already close enough that you easily stop him by placing a warm hand on his arm. “It’s on me. Bring the drinks to your friends.” You lead his hand to the tray, and you finally take a step away from Leon, giving him room to breathe. Leon  _ really  _ shivers then by the sudden shift in temperature- he was suddenly much colder than before. “Have a good time, new boy,” you told him with a wink, and suddenly you disappeared as if you were never there at all. 

Like a figment of his imagination. 

Leon tried his best to shake it off. If you were real, you were certainly strange. The aura you carried and the way you talked to him- 

No one ever talked to him like that. 

But, again, he shakes it off. He brings the tray of drinks to his friends, all who holler and cheer when he returns. When Sonia asks what took him so long, he doesn’t know what to say, so he just hands her a drink instead. 

Raihan gives him a look, and Leon ignores it. 

Things start to fall back like they were before. Leon laughs, he jokes, he wrestles with Raihan. Ordinary things for a night out. And then, finally, people start to set up on the stage. Somehow it gets even darker in the club, but the light stands that surround the borders of the stage glow brighter. 

You step onto the platform, electric bass in your hand, and you go right for the microphone in the center. Leon once again feels his throat dry up when he sees you, for reasons that he really can’t find the right words to explain. 

Music starts to play, slow and sweet and alluring. Leon can’t help but ask because he can’t seem to tear his eyes away- “who is that?” 

“Him? That’s ___,” Nessa replies, resting her head in her hand as she looks at the stage. Her body naturally sways to the beat. “Him and his band play here a lot. Not sure about the name of the band because they never really announce themselves. They don’t really have a schedule either. They just come up and play, and no one says anything. They’re really good, though.” 

Hm. 

The slow beat only lasts for so long. The bass players behind you and the drummer all start to amp up, and eventually, your voice comes through the speakers of the club. “It’s about time we livened things up, don’t you think?” The patrons of the clubs all woot and cheer, making you laugh. “Mm, I thought so. Alright. I want to see some of you pulling your best moves, then.” 

You strum your guitar, and the mood changes. 

_ Here I am, tied and bound,  _

_ Every night, feeling low, _

_ Bad days come back whatever, _

Raihan chuckles from beside Leon as his head starts to bob to the beat, and Sonia wiggles out of her seat. “We should get up and dance!” She suggests, and Nessa seems to agree as she leaves the booth. 

Leon doesn’t want to dance, not really, but he’s basically torn from his seat and pulled into the crowd by his friends as they all begin to move with the beat. The lights on the stage begin to glow and change color, reflecting on the sea of people in waves, bouncing and sinking into sweaty skin as Leon keeps his eyes on you. 

_ In the sun I bathe, in everyday light,  _

_ You draft me down for a split second tomorrow,  _

_ What am I supposed to do? _

Somehow, your eyes find his. They stay on him, bore into him as you sing, even as Nessa twirls him around and laughs at how distracted he is. 

_ I know you would make me happy,  _

_ Girl, I found my way out, _

_ I found it at last now I’m sober _

_ Oh-oo-oooo- _

Your eyes practically shine as your head raises high, 

_ Let’s go! _

The bass guitars thrum loudly and everyone enjoys the rift, and Leon’s forced to tear his eyes away as he dances and laughs when Sonia nearly trips, falling into Raihan instead, and then he twirls her across the floor until she falls into Nessa’s arms and the two start to dance in sync together. 

Leon distracts himself with the music. He tries to ignore the feeling of your eyes burning into him as the music continues, gets louder, vibrates through him just like your voice had done to him earlier. He lets himself enjoy the sweat and exhaustion that comes from dancing so much, the ache in his feet- he thrives in it.

You had told him to enjoy himself, hadn’t you?

His cheeks hurt from how much he was laughing and smiling, and he starts to forget about your purple-stained lips, but then you did something unexpected. 

The songs you and your band made, easy to dance to, come to a quiet, and Leon had noticed how you removed your guitar and set it to the side. Music comes again as you walk up to the mic with a whistle, but the intense beat had him stopping in his steps to stare up at you. Slowly your hands went around the mic as you sing, 

_ Woke up in the morning feelin’ cynical, typical, _

_ Tryin’a rub the sleep out of my bloodshot eyes,  _

_ Did I just die? Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah,  _

You smile as you take the mic away from the stand, but your eyes remain somewhat neutral and cold as you look out to the crowd. 

_ I’ve been feelin’ self-destructive, but I love it,  _

_ I can’t help myself- your taste is so seductive,  _

Leon’s surprised when you hop off the stage, the line of the microphone following behind you as you twirl the wire between your fingers, but no one else seems to think it’s strange. Maybe you do it often. Naturally, people move out of your way as you continue to sing, but Leon finds himself frozen in place. 

_ I’m feelin’... _

_ Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- on my mind, can’t rewind,  _

_ Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- all the time, that’s my life,  _

And you’re headed right for him. 

Somehow, he felt like he should have predicted it from how your eyes bore into him as he swayed and danced to your voice. But now? Again he realizes he doesn’t feel like dancing, but you reach for his arm just like before and pull him toward you anyway, making him twirl with you, everyone’s eyes on the two of you.

He doesn’t see them, and neither do you. The two of you are too busy twirling, twirling, twirling. 

_ Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- on my mind, can’t rewind,  _ you sing, 

_ Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- all the time, that’s my life,  _

When you stop making the room spin, an unsettling whistle leaves your lips and Leon slowly backs away from you as you keep stalking toward him- and all of a sudden he’s aware of the feeling you’ve been giving him the entire night.

Something intoxicating that makes him feel like  _ prey.  _

_ Frontin’ about my day, I’m feelin’ criminal, habitual, _

_ I try to hide my pain behind a broken smile, so out of style,  _

Leon keeps backing up until his heel meets a surface- the stage. He backs up as far as he can against it, and you reach for him again, your hand smoothly running against his stubbled jaw as you move in close. Close enough that he can feel that same heat from before, the kind that makes him want to shiver. 

Your hand holds his jaw, keeps him in place as your chest's touch and the microphone is the only thing keeping you away from his lips as you stare deep into his golden eyes. 

_ I’ve been feelin’ self destructive, but I love it,  _

_ I can’t help myself, your taste is so seductive, _

The tension is left unresolved as you pull on him again, away from the stage, and once again, you spin with him. 

_ I’m feelin, _

_ Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- on my mind, can’t rewind, _

_ Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- all the time, that’s my life,  _

_ Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- on my mind, can’t rewind,  _

_ Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- all the time, that’s my life,  _

At the end of your chorus, you wink at him again and send him flying, twirling toward the crowd and right into Raihan’s lean, firm chest. You meander around the crowd some more as you sing, but after that, you eventually hop back on the stage to finish your song. 

Leon, to put it simply, is out of breath, but you don’t look affected in the slightest. Maybe because it’s your job. Maybe because you're from another planet?

“Holy shit, man,” Raihan laughs from behind Leon as he grabs the Champion’s arms,  _ twirling _ him once again, and Leon thinks he might just vomit if someone makes him spin like that one more time. “What the hell was that?” 

The song isn’t over, but he can’t even hear it anymore as he’s swarmed by his friends. Nessa looks blown away. “We can’t take you anywhere, can we?” She laughs.

“Apparently not!” 

“Har har,” Leon groans, a hand moving to clasp his sweaty forehead. “I think that’ll be enough dancing for me.” Behind him, he’s mildly aware of someone messing with his hair, and suddenly it feels a bit cooler as his hair is tied up into a ponytail, away from his neck and shoulders. Half his mind still intact, he reaches behind him, clasps a hand that feels like Raihans and squeezes it as a form of thanks- and then he’s stumbling away, back to his booth where he can catch his breath. 

Time swirls in his head unsteadily, his head throbbing with the beat of drums and electronic noise. Leon still feels so _hot_ \- a heat in his belly that’s swirling and twirling and making him woozy. Resting in the booth he undoes a few buttons on his dress shirt, just wanting to cool down, but his tight pants keep him constricted and sweating. 

Cool down. Leon just wants to  _ cool down.  _

Blurry visions of purple lips and teeth cloud up his mind, and his pants are so  _ tight, _ and a painfully unfamiliar and alluring voice still bounces in his skull. He hardly even notices when imaginary becomes reality as you eventually sit next to him in the booth, your hand on his thigh, and your chest pressed against his arms as you flash those bright teeth at him again. Weren’t you singing on stage? When did you leave? Where were his friends?

Are you really real?

He wants you to prove it to him. 

Your laughter rings out, and suddenly you’re closer than before, and his disoriented mind hardly cares when your hands wander around his form. Purple lips press softly against his own, probably stained another hideously lovely color, but Leon’s  _ so hot  _ that it feels like a fever as his body moves to straddle you and he kisses you again. _Again._

Something pulls on the loose strands of hair spilling out of his ponytail, and he moans, and then his hair is pulled once more- harder- and there’s a tongue in his mouth that tastes like razzberries. 

_ Are you real? _

Your lips trail against his jaw, hands holding his hips firmly- when did you get under his shirt? Leon can feel warm breaths on his ear, and there’s a whisper that rings through his hazy, clouded mind. 

“I’ll prove it to you.” 

It sounds like music. 

\---

Waking up wasn’t pleasant when it felt like you were only waking up to a nightmare. 

His dreams- he had barely dreamt- but his dreams were fuzzy and warm, pleasant. Nothing like the painful throb that he woke up to, thrumming through his whole body and his skull. The Champion doesn’t even have the pleasure of waking up in his own home. 

When he opens his eyes, he sees that he’s in a living room of some sort, but he’s never been to this place before. 

Which begs the question of how he got here at all. He has a feeling it’s not because of his horrible sense of direction- especially when he moves up from where he was sleeping on the couch and the blanket draped over him pools in his lap, letting him see the various marks that scatter across his body. 

Hickies, love marks, predatory bites. Call them what you will. 

There’s a _ lot _ of them. 

“I see the Champion is finally awake,” a voice that’s only vaguely familiar cuts through his thoughts. Leon looks up, finding a blurry form of a body in a doorway. He can’t make out who it is, but when they step closer, his mind quickly catches up and does the math for him.

It’s you- that singer from last night. No longer bathed in neon lights, you look dramatically different- especially because you’re wearing a loose shirt and no pants, and Leon can easily see the bright marks scattered on you just like they’re on him. 

He must have done that. To you. 

“You know,” you speak up again, breaking Leon out of his thoughts. You move to sit carefully on the coffee table placed in front of the couch he’s on. You keep your distance, and the gesture is appreciated in the back of Leon’s mind. “I was surprised when I woke up this morning. I had no idea it was you.” 

“You didn’t?” His voice is croaky and dry, and that’s when you hand him the glass of water that he hadn’t noticed you were carrying, along with two white pills that are probably aspirin. 

“To be fair, the club is really dark. And I had already had a few drinks in me when I went up on stage.” You watch as Leon chugs the water you gave him. “But I was miles more sober than you were. I should have noticed.” 

The information doesn’t make him feel better. There’s an uncomfortable feeling spreading through him from his gut, making his shoulders tense- 

“We didn’t do anything,” you say. “Besides making out and all that. You were certainly tempting with how eager you acted,” you smile impishly at him, chuckling, “but I knew you were also out of your mind. Nothing happened besides some innocent grinding. You passed out on my couch, too, after a while. Woke up again and threw up all over yourself, but I cleaned that up. Should probably shower when you get home, though.” 

Leon blinks once, twice, three times as he processes the information you gave him. There’s a chance you could be lying. The Champion hardly remembered anything from last night, just flashes. But when he looks at you, sitting half-naked as you twiddle nervously with your hands in your lap, he feels like he can believe you. 

Especially the throwing up part. His stomach feels unsteady enough that he can certainly believe that part. 

“...Thank you for doing that for me,” Leon murmurs eventually. “Do you… have any idea where my clothes are?” 

“Ah,” you nod and stand up, hands on your thighs. “Yes, I had put them in the dryer earlier. Since you threw up on your clothes and all that. I’ll go see if they’re done.” 

You leave for a separate room, leaving Leon alone in your living room. His head is still throbbing, but the aspirin is slowly kicking in. 

As he slowly starts to assess the situation he’s in, the only words he can find to describe it is… odd. Very _odd_.

Getting drunk and making out with strangers isn’t like him. Especially _male_ strangers. Especially coming home with said male strangers. 

So what happened that made him so drawn to you, anyway? Leon honestly doesn’t know. You were attractive, that’s for sure. 

Maybe he was lonely. Desperate. 

He doesn’t get to think more about it because soon you walk into the room again- wearing some shorts this time- his clothes in your hand as you smile at him. 

Your teeth aren’t glowing purple anymore, but there’s still a tint to them that makes him huff out a chuckle as he takes his clothes from your hand, murmuring a thank you as he does. You also hand him his phone, which he hadn’t even thought about until he saw it. 

Turning the screen on, he sees a headache of messages waiting for him, so he turns it off for now. 

“So where, uh… Am I, exactly?” He asks you as he puts his shirt back on, fumbling with the buttons. You sit back down on the coffee table. 

“My apartment in Spikemuth, not that far from the bar. I know you’re pants with directions, so I can help you head back to Wyndon if you’d like. But I,” you look away from him again, and Leon notices how you twirl your hands in your lap again, “uh, I understand if you probably would like to head home by yourself, too.” 

It clicks in Leon’s head then. For someone who acted so confidently last night, the confidence that lured Leon in to begin with- you were oddly cute once you were pulled into the light. It’s almost endearing. 

Leon doesn’t reply in favor for shuffling on his pants instead- you glance away and hide your eyes with your hand as you do, which Leon audibly chuckles at since there’s not much for him to hide that you haven’t seen already, but he appreciates it none the less. 

Instead of replying to your request, he asks a question. “What’s your name?”  Your eyes meet his, and he smiles in a fluster. “I never really caught it last night. If I did- well- I forgot.” 

“Right,” you nod and you don’t look like you mind. “The name’s ___.”

“___,” He tests the name on his lips. It sounds a bit familiar- so perhaps he did learn your name last night. “Well, ___. To be quite honest, last night was very unlike me. I’m a bit out of my comfort zone,” he says, and now his own hands are twirling around. “But I’d appreciate the invitation to get to know who I was smooching on last night if you’re willing to chat as we head to Wyndon.” 

Your eyes light up in surprise- perhaps you weren’t expecting that. Again, the word ‘cute’ crosses his mind, especially when you smile at him. That was the most familiar thing- your smile and how you managed to still send anxious twirls in his stomach. It was odd…

“Yeah- that’d be nice. I’ll get changed and- well- you probably want to use my hairbrush. And maybe we can slap some make-up on your neck, too,” you laugh as you stand, Leon following close behind as you lead him to your bathroom. 

Yes, the feeling you made him feel was odd… But not bad. 

Not bad at all, really.


	6. Leon - Sneakit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from Ao3 @Onion: Hey, I was wondering if I could maybe make a request for an insert with Leon? Maybe after a match Leon is just getting ready to head out when a little Nickit shows up and swipes his hat. Naturally the lil pokemon runs off with it and Leon will follow where he eventually runs into Reader who is one of the staff working at the stadium! Reader’s job is typically to clean up any stands and find lost items to put into lost and found, and their Nickit helps them!

Leon was, by all means, minding his own business. 

Being the Champion meant almost the opposite of what it entails. No one could beat him in battle, so because of that- battling him was nearly impossible. It was a double edged sword- the impossible is impossible to reach, so it stays impossible. 

It was a bunch of nonsense that Leon didn’t really agree with and disregarded half the time. If people happened to find him while he was trekking the Wild Area and propositioned a battle, he usually accepted more often than not, even though he technically wasn’t supposed to. Because what if they beat him? With no cameras to show the proof?

Leon had the word Champion printed on him for a reason, though. So that never happened. But his lawyers and chairman Rose weren’t too happy with his attitude. 

So that’s why it’s always nice when a challenger does make it to Wyndon Stadium. A proper battle for Leon that wouldn’t give him disapproving looks! Finally. 

It’s a thrill to fight, though the ending stays the same. Leon used a total of three Pokemon before the challenger had been beaten, and gave the kid a handshake and grin as he thanked him for the battle. And then Leon went off to the locker area- despite the fact that he isn’t battling, he was still a bit worn out from barking out orders and running around all day, so he figures he’ll get changed and head home for the day using the back roads so no one will bother him. 

That was the plan. But right after Leon had gotten dressed, he turned around to grab his bag and hat- but that was the problem. Out of seemingly nowhere, a Nickit had appeared in his changing room. 

Which was odd, because how on earth had it done that? Nickit’s were known for being sneaky, though. Leon dumbly watches as the Pokemon runs around his room, takes the snapback lying on the floor between it’s teeth, and then dashes out of the room. 

It just stole his hat. 

“Wh- hey!” Leon finally moves into action, scrambling forward to follow the Nickit out of his room. He sees a flash of red disappear around a corner, and as quick as he can, Leon dashes after it. “Little Nickit! That’s mine, you know!” He uselessly yells at it. 

The Pokemon, unsurprisingly, is rather fast. Though it’s body is small and it’s legs are short, it certainly gives Leon a workout as he runs after the thing all around the stadium. 

Eventually the Pokemon runs through open doors where the bleachers are located, and Leon curses under his breath as he tries to run a little faster. Finding that thing between the bleachers isn’t going to be easy. 

But it’s actually easy. 

As soon as Leon comes bustling through the doorway, he sees the Nickit ahead, standing proudly on one of the seats, stolen-snapback in it’s mouth. It twirls around on the seat several times joyfully, and Leon is a little confused- until a head pops up from the bleachers. 

Huh?

“Nickit! You found something? A hat?” The Nickit bounces up and down and the stranger sits up from the floor, taking the hat out of it’s mouth. “That’s no good. Someone will definitely be wanting this back. Thanks for finding it, Nickit!”

Leon awkwardly coughs, crossing his arms around his chest, and the stranger’s head snaps up to look at him. 

And then they anxiously stand up, his snapback still in their hand as they wipe the dust and dirt off their pants. “O-oh! Uh, sir champion? I didn’t know you stayed at the stadium this late!” 

Despite how he’s kind of catching his breath from chasing what is assumingly their Nickit around, he laughs. “Just Leon is fine, no need for any flashy titles. I honestly wasn’t planning to stay late, but,” he points at the hat, “you seem to have something of mine.”

The person stands there, staring at him as the wheels start to turn in their head. They look down at the hat, then back at him, then at the still-very-proud Nickit. 

They gasp. “I’m so sorry! Nickit, did you steal something again?” They wag an accusing finger at the Pokemon, who doesn’t look very sorry as it just stares smugly at Leon, who raises an eyebrow in return. “I told you that you can’t do that! If you want to be out of your pokeball it’s to help me, not steal things from others.” It turns around. “Are you listening?” It hops off the bleacher and walks off- but not far, thankfully. It looks like the stealing escapades are over for the night, and the Nickit owner sighs tiredly as they turn back to Leon. “I’m really sorry, sir- uh- Leon. He has a habit of making trouble when he’s actually just trying to help,” they hand Leon the cap and he gratefully takes it, wiping off the Pokemon spit before placing it snugly on his head. 

“That’s alright- I’m fairly familiar with sneaky Pokemon.” He has quite a few himself, after all. “What’s he helping with, though?” 

They gesture at the stadium with their hand. “It’s my job to clean up when everyone leaves, and look around the bleacher’s for any lost items so they get put in the Lost-and-Found. Nickit will help me sometimes, but other times he wanders off if he gets too excited.” They deflate a little bit as they look around anxiously, hands fumbling together. “I’m really, really sorry he stole your hat. I can- um- give you the number of my boss if you want, so you can tell him it was ___ who ruined your night.” 

Leon shakes his head. “I’m not going to rat you out,” he smiles at how the now-named ___ lights up at that, “besides, I don’t really blame him. My hat was on the floor, after all.”

“Oh, that’s good! I was worried he’d taken it right off your head, and that really doesn’t sound like him!” ___ bows their head just a bit. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

“Not a problem!” Leon waves off the apology yet again. “Thank you for your hard work. Have a good night- and you too, little Nickit!” He looks toward the Pokemon, who looks over when he’s acknowledged and just barely waves his tail at the champion. Leon laughs- oddly cute for a little thief, isn’t he? 

“Yes, you too! Uh, have a good night!” 

So Leon heads home after that, snapback on his head and bag on his shoulders, but now that it’s dark out he doesn’t have to use the back roads as he heads toward his house. During his walk, he takes a deep whiff of the night air and appreciates the chill on his cheeks- he really doesn’t take night walks that often. He wonders what it’s like to work late, like that ___ does.

Maybe he’ll stay later another day and talk to them again sometime. Who knows? They were kind of cute, especially when they were flustering around. _Sir Champion_ they had called him- he snorts, amused at the memory.


	7. Piers - Patio Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from Tumblr: I am in a romantic mood and in dire need of some Piers kisses. Can I request something soft and sweet with Piers with his s/o with some smooches please?

“You look really handsome, you know,”

“Shut it.”

Piers grumbles from his place, practically glued to the wall as he shuffles uncomfortably. He’s not wearing his gym uniform for once and he’s also not wearing sweats either (which is usually what he wears when he’s at home). The dark gym leader really does look nice in his buttoned up shirt and leather pants, but he doesn’t seem to think so as he pulls on his collar every other minute and belt loops. His jacket is sitting on his arm- he insisted to keep it on at first but had to remove it once the hot night got to be too much. “I still don’t know why we had to come.” Piers sighs.

“Because it’s Marnie’s party,” you remind him, and his shoulders sink as he shuts his eyes.

“Right.” Truly, his sister was possibly the only person who could convince him to go to any social outing that wasn’t a concert of some kind. But even if it was for his sister, it didn’t mean he liked it.

It’s amazing that Piers isn’t a hermit.

“You still look nice, though,” you tell him sweetly and wrap an arm around him, which he doesn’t stop. He just bites his cheek, looking at you from the side of his eye. “And we’ll be able to go home soon enough. Then you can take your handsome clothes off and change into regular handsome clothes.”

At that, he snorts, finally smiling as he relaxes under your arm and wraps one of his own around you. “Laying it on thick, aren’t you?”

“You’ve got your arm around me now, so I’d say it’s working.”

“Of course,” he hums. “Always been a sucker for compliments.”

“I know,” you smile, “I think that’s half the reason you decided to be a rock star,”

“Try a third.”

“Ah, right. The other two reasons being a passion for music and a way to vent your darkest desires?”

“So close. Almost.” Piers body further relaxes as the two of you banter, and you relish in the closeness. The hand that isn’t wrapped around Piers raises to run through his dyed hair, tucking some strands behind his ear that just fall back into place in front of his eyes, which follow your movements with a mild look of interest. “Stop, you’ll wreck my image,” he says, but makes no move to stop you as you try to manage his stubborn bangs.

It works eventually, giving you a clearer view of his face and it makes you smile. “No one’s looking at us, so it’s okay,” you assure him and you lean in for a kiss as you start to feel bolder. “I wonder if anyone would recognize you if I dressed you up.”

Piers sighs against your lips, “doubt it. So maybe you should.”

“You sure about that?” You raise an eyebrow. “That’s giving me a lot of control, I could put you in a dress.”

“Like you don’t already have all of it,” he rolls his eyes, and he surprises you when he kisses you again. You certainly won’t complain though as you hum pleasantly.

“Thanks for admitting it.”


	8. Leon + Raihan - Mail Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> request from anon (haha) on tumblr: maybe something about getting your mail at the same time?? like you're apartment/house neighbors with Leon and/or Raihan & at first it's just coincidence, but then they start waiting for you to get your mail so they can come talk to you?? & then eventually you both always wait until the same time to get the mail each day to talk to each other?? idk just something cutesy and slice of life-y, i love your writing!!

## Leon ☆

He rolls on the balls of his feet as he waits, hands in his pockets and digging deep into the cloth.

It’s a bit embarrassing to wait for you- even more embarrassing to admit it, even if it’s just in his head. It’s shameful to add up all the times he’s fastly raised his head and shoulders in anticipation-- only to drop them when he sees the person who entered the building wasn’t who he was waiting for. The amount of times he's had to pull his hat down further on his head as the apartment tenant just trying to get their mail notices him lurking around the corner and gives him a strange look. The number... isn't flattering. But still, he sits in place, waiting for you.

Because surely- _surely_ you will be coming soon. So all this awkward flustering and waiting around will end and be worth it for- what- a brief conversation? Something that might barely last five minutes if Leon insists on it?

He starts to chew on his lip and doubt this silly thing that he’s doing. It’s kind of creepy- definitely _weird_. If you come to get mail today on Tuesday, just like you do every week- just like Leon does- then surely you’ll just want to pick up your things and leave. Maybe you don’t even have any this week! That’s also possible. So maybe waiting around is possibly very stupid and he should just head back to his apartment now-

Then the door opens again, and Leon looks up one last time. And of course it’s you- of course it is. His heart jumps.

...He’s not sure what to do now. Hm.

Right as he’s starting to doubt this idea once again, your eyes meet his. And you _smile_ at him- happy to see him- making Leon bless Arceus as he smiles back. Maybe a little too eagerly, but oh well.

“Mail?” He asks lamely, and nearly curses himself out for such a dumb introduction, but you laugh anyway as you nod at him and head toward your mailbox.

“How’d you know?” You tease lightly, opening your drawer and taking out the contents inside, tucking it under your arm. “It’s interesting how we check mail the same day. Why Tuesday for you?”

Leon hums, acting casual as he leans against the wall in a very cool way. “It’s the same day I do my laundry. You?”

You raise your eyebrows at his reply. “That’s a non-answer. First, you’ll have to give me your reasoning for doing your laundry on Tuesday.”

“Ah, well that’s because it’s the same day I check my mail, of course.”

Your expression lights up as you bark out a laugh. “Alright, keep your secrets!” You snicker. “But I’m not telling you my reason, then.”

“Mm, you shouldn’t. It keeps you mysterious, and therefore alluring.”

“So I’m alluring to you?” Oops, perhaps he shouldn’t have said that. You look a bit smug now as Leon opens his mouth, fighting to find a different adjective, but none are coming to mind fast enough. You hum, “good to know that the great ex-Champion finds me alluring.”

He pouts. “Well now, you didn’t have to add the _ex_ part.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. I’m a stickler for truths, as harsh as they may be,”

Leon straightens up his posture as he leans off the wall, taking in the new information about you and putting it in a little folder in his mind for later thought. “Good to know,” he says, and taps his own mail against his thigh. “I should be off now, but I appreciate the new information about my neighbor,” As he heads for the doors, you follow him out, and Leon tries not to skip at that.

“As do I. It’s always good to know I’ve got someone around that’s willing to give me a cup of sugar,” you smile, “or go for a late-night skinny dip in the pool for pure adrenaline rush reasons, who knows,”

He spits, and you laugh at him.

“You shouldn’t tease like that!” Leon coughs, but he can’t help the laugh that escapes him either as he tries to rub the smile off his face, along with the blush that’s festering on his cheeks. “But you have my number. House number, that is. For sugar reasons only.”

“Well, that doesn’t exclude the skinny dipping then, because depending on your description of such events, it can be pretty sweet.”

“Stop!” Leon laughs and risks shoving you in a playful way, and thankfully you just giggle along and let him push you. He tries not to let his mind dwell too much on the brief moment of contact- it's a bit childish to say something like he felt sparks or a magnet pull when you touched- but it did make a funny flipping feeling in his stomach at the very least. Perhaps his face is a little warm, too. 

“Okay, I’m done, I promise,” you snort and slow your walk as a split comes in the sidewalk. Ah, yes, the dreadful split. Where Leon goes right and you go left, to your respective buildings. When you look up at him and smile again, Leon almost sighs- it’ll be a long week before he sees it again. He's certain that you have no clue how much he'll be missing that smile. “Unfortunately I have plenty of sugar at home, so I’ll most likely see you next Tuesday if fate allows it.”

“Yes, fate,” Leon agrees, and the two of you go your separate ways. Surely it was fate that had you both checking mail at the same time, Leon thinks... And he groans as he flusters at the thought, lowering his cap on his head again and letting the material rub harshly on his forehead. Of course it was fate, and not at all was it because Leon can’t stop thinking about you, so he waits for you every Tuesday on purpose. Definitely not.

## Raihan ☆

The day you had moved into the house next to him was a day Raihan will remember- and usually, he doesn’t remember such mundane, unimportant things- but you had left an impression that day. And you hate it, too, so that makes him remember it even more, grinning as he brings up the incident whenever he can.

It was a simple mistake, of course. And it was quite cute, as well, which Raihan tells you, making you hit him on the arm, which is also very cute. You had moved in, of course- as that was the premise of this memory- several Corviknights out in your yard that carried your boxes. They hopped around in boredom, rolling around with each other and pecking at their feathers as you unpacked, but otherwise not causing a disturbance of any sort. It was while you were packing that you had decided to introduce yourself to your neighbors- because you were _definitely_ in need of a break from hauling everything around after a few hours. That’s what brought you to Raihan’s porch, which you had no idea was Raihan’s porch, and knocking three times on his door.

And that’s when Raihan had opened his door, surprising you not only with his mere presence but also because he was clad only in a towel that hung low around his lean hips. It was an image that had you at a loss for words-

“Holy hell-“

Well, at a loss for _eloquent_ words, that is.

Raihan had raised his eyebrows at your statement, but otherwise said nothing- obviously waiting to see why you were on his property. And you, unfortunately, couldn’t even breathe, much less tell him that you were his new neighbor as you ogled at his wet, naked body.

“I’m. Next door. If you ever want me-“ no, that’s not right! “- _need_ me.” That wasn’t better? “None of those things. You don’t- no- alright. I’ll be next door. I live there now. ...Farewell.”

And after that fucking mess, you quickly left, and you were quite positive in your decision to never speak or look at Raihan ever again. Even on the telly. But he had ruined it when sometime the next week, after you had finally gotten the post office to register your new address and stop sending all your mail to your poor old gran- you hopped over to your mailbox.

Only for Raihan to be there too. And boy, was he just _staring_ at you, grinning and everything. You immediately froze when you saw him, and that just made him grin wider as he leaned on his mailbox.

“Pray tell, neighbor,” he said, “what’s your name? I want- no, I _need_ to know, so I hope you’ll tell me.”

Never had your face gotten red so fast. Except maybe that _one time_ \- that time you saw him half-naked. Yeah. 

Since that awful, awful introduction- you were able to thankfully move past it and become good acquaintances of a sort with your neighbor Raihan. And he moved past it with you, but only to a certain extent. Because _of course_ he brought it up every other time he saw you to tease you- but it’s becoming less frequent after you told him that the joke will lose its effect the more he uses it. So now he’s spread out the teasing quite a bit.

But whenever you go to get your mail, you see how he basically bursts out of his own home and skips down his steps to meet you there. He says he simply needs to get his own mail- which he does, and he’s always got loads of it (unsurprising), but you know it’s also because he’s just waiting for you to humiliate yourself again.

And eventually, you do just that.

You’re just trying to peacefully gather your mail again, and of course Raihan is there, chatting away before once again mentioning how you were so embarrassed by his body- and you finally snap. “What?” You ask him, abruptly. “Would you _not_ be?”

“Not be what?” He asks, raising his eyebrows, and you gesture wildly with your arms.

“Embarrassed! Like, be honest- if I came down suddenly one day in a towel and I was wet and dripping and all that- I mean, that would be- kind of embarrassing... for you, probably?” You lose confidence the longer you talk, unfortunately, because you’re suddenly aware of what you’re saying.

Raihan’s eyebrows have successfully disappeared beneath his beanie as he stares wide-eyed at you, and then he asks- “is that an offer?”

Because of course he asks that.

“Stop stalking me when I get mail!” You yell at him instead, face successfully red and hot- and Raihan explodes into a fit of laughter as he doubles over on his mailbox. “I mean it! You’re going to ruin me- I could testify to the police that it’s harassment!” Of course you don’t actually mean this, but you’ve had quite enough. You’re not sure how much more of a beating your poor heart and soul can take from this man.

Raihan just keeps laughing.

“For Arceus sake,” you curse under your breath and turn on your heel, heading back to your house in quick steps. You make it to the door when he finally calls out your name, and you consider ignoring him- but he pleads, even if it’s laced between giggles.

“Wait- _wait!_ I mean it, you left this behind- come on!”

His voice gets closer, and when you look over your shoulder, he’s on the stairs of your porch with mirth in his eyes as he holds up a package. You purse your lips. “Come on now, take it and I’ll leave you alone.”

Quickly you swipe it out of his hands.

“For now.”

Of course. Shouldn’t have expected it’ll be so easy. “Goodbye, Raihan,” you tell him tiredly and he barely waves as he watches you disappear into your house. You’re already dreading the next time you get mail- maybe you’ll train your Pokemon to do it for you...

Pssh. Yeah, right.


	9. Leon - Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from anon: Something slightly dark w Leon and reader please ❤❤❤

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: toxic behavior including stalking and possessiveness

Leon has... a somewhat odd habit. It was simply how things worked for him, given his lifestyle and how he’s grown until now. He’s lived learning everything there is to know about wild animals.

How to predict them, how to work around them. How to _tame_ them.

Leon likes to think he’s an expert in that field. In ways, people aren’t so different than the Pokémon he handles daily. Not with their base instincts.

That’s not to say you act like a wild animal. No, you’re very kind and polite and you trust Leon very much, which the Champion cherishes. He’s distinctly aware of that trust.

He uses that trust.

Not in a way that’s bad or wrong- of course not. It also depends on what your opinion of ‘bad and wrong’ is. Leon didn’t think he was doing anything wrong. Trying to limit your interactions with people so you only talked with those he trusted- people that are safe- that was for you. Keeping tabs on where you went was also for you, to make sure you didn’t go into any strange areas where you could hear things that you didn’t need to hear. Browsing through your text messages to see what you were talking about- if he thought you were getting too chummy or too tense with somebody, and lending his support for your interactions as he gently persuaded you on what he thought was the correct course of action (but he never took your phone, no, you simply gave it to him. You made it that easy, because you trusted him. It’s not wrong of him to sort through it if you gave him direct access).

None of these things are bad. It’s all for _you_ \- to keep _you_ safe, to keep _you_ smiling and satisfied and happy. Leon was doing a good thing.

He knew this, and he knew that you knew it too, deep down. But we are all just animals. So when you had figured out about (some) of his behaviors toward you- your base instincts came out. And it’s okay- he understands. He gets it. You didn’t mean to lash out at him- the sudden rush of new information that you didn’t understand simply made you feel cornered and scared, and that’s natural. It’s natural to snap and say things you don’t mean when you’re scared.

“It’s okay,” Leon assures you as you look at him with wide, confused eyes. You had yelled at him- thrown a pillow from your couch in a burst of anger- but then you immediately cowered, apologizing to him as you say you don’t know what came over you. “I forgive you.” He says.

“That’s- I- I’m glad, but this is still- Leon, you know that you can’t do this anymore, right? I- I’ll forgive you too- if you just tell me that you understand why this was such an invasion of my privacy. And you promise that you won’t do this again. I need to hear you say that.”

If that’s what you wanted to hear to calm down and trust him, then absolutely. He smiles, “of course,” and tells you exactly those few things. His tone is honest and rich, making your shoulders relax as you let out a deep breath. You open your arms as an offering, and Leon gladly scoops you in his arms, pressing you tightly against him as he buries his nose in your hair.

“I’m so glad,” you hum as you hug him back, “I’m glad that we could talk it out. I’m really sorry I exploded.”

That’s okay. Of course it’s okay. “I understand,” Leon keeps you against him, holding you tighter when you first motion to move away. Once you realize he wants to hug longer, you return the hold.

You wouldn’t know that Leon is struggling to let you go in the first place. The urge that rushes through him when you’re so close and he can smell you, feel you- the urge to take you and hide you away.

But you were still backed against that corner. He has to be patient. Lay out some treats, wait for you to come forward, coo and pet you gently. Just like the Pokemon he works with. It’s all the same, just with different treats. And he’s figuring out what yours are, slowly but surely.

“I’m so happy you’re with me,” Leon says.

“I’m happy, too,” you say, even though you don’t really know what you’re saying. You don’t get it. But that’s okay. He appreciates the words nonetheless.


	10. Raihan - Wear it Like a Jacket

Raihan wears a big, fluffy, comfortable hoodie over his gym uniform- and he almost always wears his gym uniform. The gym clothes don’t really suit him, and the shorts show off too much of his legs, in his opinion- but the fans love his legs, so he guesses there’s at least that.

But Galar is known for it’s fickle weather, and Hammerlocke is built smack-dab in the middle of the Wild Area- you know, the place with several different climates that rotate daily? Yeah.

So Raihan takes what he can get with his uniform- using the hoodie as his one solace during the cold weather as his legs shake from being so naked and bare during literal snowstorms.

That being said, at least the uniform is nice for when the sun is determined to blast literal heat rays onto the city that create a fuzzy haze in the air. That’s the only time that he takes off his big hood, tying the article around his hips instead. Still, the hoodie doesn’t leave him. It’s always on him.

A shame that it’s been used against him. He wore it at first because he didn’t like his clothes, and he didn’t like showing his skin, and he _really_ didn’t like having so many eyes on him and admiring him. Despite the selfies, the attitude he showcases out there- there’s truth to it, of course, but only so much. It was nice, but stifling. Raihan brought the hoodie with him originally to feel more secure, to ground him with something familiar and something that _belonged_ to him.

Raihan was ignorant when he did such a thing- he should have predicted that people would leech everything they could get. The hoodie became his staple- a part of his image. It was his uniform now, just as much as the collared shirt and shorts were. And he just had to live with that.

That’s fine. It’s comfortable, it’s soft, it’s snug. He’s not complaining.

But he doesn’t wear it outside of work anymore.

No one has ever commented on it, though. No one really pays attention to Raihan like that, honestly, so he’s not surprised. He hardly even realizes it himself- it’s not something noticeable. Not really.

You were different, though, apparently. His eyebrows raises in surprise and interest as you ask him one day-

“Why don’t you wear your jacket?”

His lips pull up as his brow furrows, just a bit confused as he looks down at you. “What do you mean? I wear it all the time.”

“At work,” you look away from him as you look ahead, shuffling on the bench you sit on. Your hand ruffles through a plastic bag, taking out a handful of crumbs before you throw it out on the grass and several bird Pokemon flock down to get a bite. “You never wear it out of the gym.”

Raihan hums, watching the birds and how they flap their wings and one of the bigger ones puffs out its chest as it tries to get more than the rest. “I guess. Never really thought about it. Does my current outfit not do it for you?”

“That’s not it,” you tell him, “I just noticed. I guess I wondered if there was a reason behind it. You used to wear it all the time- your dad gave it to you, right?”

He had no idea you would remember such a thing.

“...Yeah,” Raihan says. “That’s true.”

He doesn’t say anything else and neither do you. The two of you once again sit in silence, simply just being in each other's company as you spread out food for the wild Pokemon around the park. It’s a beautiful day out- the sun is shining but not in an overwhelming way, a breeze flits through the air and through his thick hair, leaving little bumps on his neck.

For once, he’s wearing pants, so he’s not as cold as he’d usually be. It’s pleasant.

“But you do look nice,” your voice cuts through the silence eventually and Raihan turns his head lazily to look at you. Surprisingly, you look him in the eye- something you tend to avoid doing, so it almost catches him off guard how confident you are and how your eyes shine so brightly with the sun behind your head. “You always do, but I like what you’re wearing now, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” Raihan smiles as he lets out a soft breath, his back slouching more as he relaxes against the hard bench. His head tilts just barely as he tries to look at you from another angle-

Hear your words from another angle. But he doesn’t see or hear anything except for everything that was already there.

“Thank you, then,” he says simply and you smile at him as you nod, your eyes squinting and nose scrunching in the cute way it does whenever you smile.

It’s not much longer after that when the two of you part, both having another thing to do while the day was bright and shining. You comment that you should do this again, and Raihan hums an agreement- and that was that. The walk back to Raihan’s home is relatively peaceful, besides the few times that a fan sees him and waves eagerly from across the street. But no one wants pictures today or conversation- it’s a rare day that happens, especially during such nice weather, so Raihan appreciates it. He appreciates the rare silence he’s given, especially when he’s busy trying to pull your words apart in his head.

When he opens his front door, closes it behind him, Raihan finds himself torn by how simple you are. Simplicity has never been so confusing. He shouldn’t really be wondering why you say the things you say- why you noticed such a trivial detail about him, that surely everyone else has noticed too, _probably_ \- it’s not a big deal.

Still, when Raihan wanders into his room and sees that same, familiar hoodie sitting clean and neat on it’s hanger in his closet- he can’t help but draw his eyebrows together and feel odd. He reaches forward without even realizing it, feels the material of something he’s felt hundreds of times between his fingers.

_Your dad gave it to you, right?_

Raihan hardly remembers telling you such a thing. 

Frustrated, he lets the sleeve go and shuts his closet in an act of defiance, though Raihan has no idea what he’s even defying. A jacket is a jacket- and it’s hardly even that, anymore. It’s a uniform. 

It wasn’t supposed to be a uniform. 

\---

Raihan’s been feeling stranger lately. It’s not bad- but it bothers him that his jacket feels itchy all of the sudden when he goes to work- and it bothers him that he doesn’t know why he feels strange in the first place. It’s irritating, honestly, but Raihan is a relaxed guy and he doesn’t get irritated. 

So everyone hardly has anything to say besides what’s routine, because Raihan isn’t any different. Not really. 

But when you come to visit him at work, you confuse him again. “What’s wrong?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. He does the same as he looks down at you. Again. You’re really short. 

“What do you mean? I feel fine.”

“You’re acting different,” your lips purse as you mumble and your arms cross across your chest. You look away as you ponder. “Maybe I’m wrong though,” you say, quickly taking it back- Raihan doesn’t know why you’re so quick to doubt yourself. “I guess I thought you were a bit tense. You’re itching your arms a lot.”

Raihan doesn’t know what to say to that. He looks at his arms- the sleeves of his jacket pulled up to his elbows- and he’s confused when he finds lines there. Lines his nails left from scratching too hard. 

Why didn’t he notice that?

“Maybe I’m allergic to something,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets. Raihan knows he isn’t allergic to anything but soybeans.

You take the bait though, murmuring that maybe that was it, and the conversation moves on. The two of you talk about a variety of things, and then Raihan has to leave to work more with his gym trainers. You leave after you wrap an arm around his thin waist, pulling him into a side-hug and successfully confusing him further as you bid him goodbye and let him go. 

You didn’t even let him hug you back- but that wasn’t it. You’ve never done that before. Hug him? No, not really. He’ll hug you sometimes, as much as he hugs everyone else. But Raihan remembers distinctly how you often shy away from affectionate things like that and you’ve told him that you don’t really feel comfortable initiating contact. 

It’s flattering that you would hug him. That’s what he should be feeling. But instead he’s just...

He doesn’t know. 

\---

The next time the two of you meet, Raihan isn’t wearing his jacket. He wears a faded purple hoodie, a black collared shirt beneath it, and once again he hides his long legs behind some grey jeans. You invited him out for breakfast- of all meals. 

Raihan didn’t even know people went out for breakfast. It was always lunch or dinner. 

The morning air is refreshing though when he walked to your apartment and picked you up, and the conversation is equally as refreshing. He’s glad you invited him out since he’s been feeling odd ever since the last time you talked. Thankfully, he doesn’t feel that way anymore. 

As you both eat your fruit and pancakes at the diner, Raihan feels light and relaxed. He breathes easy. 

You confuse him sometimes, but he doesn’t think it’s really your fault. Nothing you do is wrong or weird- it’s just Raihan. He’s the weird one. 

You’re the bright, beautiful one with the same shining eyes you had in the park. You haven’t changed, and that’s nice. 

So when you ask him, “are you feeling better?” Raihan tries to keep breathing easy. 

“I don’t know,” he says honestly and takes another bite of his fruit. “But I feel good right now.”

“I’m glad for that,” you smile. Raihan doesn’t try to hide his stare. “If you need to talk about something or vent, I can listen. I’m not nearly as busy as you, so I’m sure I have the time whenever you need me.”

Raihan hums as a reply. 

\---

It’s around six A.M. when he calls you. Raihan doesn’t expect you to answer, but you do, so he doesn’t take that for granted. 

“Do you think gym leaders are allowed to play hooky?” He asks you. He sits on his bed, naked besides his boxers, and he’s staring at his closet. 

Your voice is rough and groggy, probably from just waking up. “I don’t think so, but the Gym Challenge isn’t really happening right now...” You hum and Raihan can hear shuffling on the other end. “Why would you want to? You have a plan?” 

“Not exactly,” Raihan says. “I guess I just don’t want to go.” 

A few silent beats pass until you talk again. “...Do you want to come to my place?” 

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” you grunt- Raihan thinks you’re proabably getting out of bed, “I’ll make some tea.”

\---

When Raihan arrives at your place, he’s got a bag around his shoulder and skinny jeans on, which feels ridiculous because of how early it is, but skinny jeans are warm. 

You let him in without question, though, letting him close the door behind him as you wander to the kitchen. He follows behind, lowering his head when the doorway to the kitchen gets in his way. 

He’s too tall. 

“You like black tea?” You smile and sit at the table where two glasses sit. You take your spot, and he takes his. 

“Yup,” Raihan says, but when he looks down, it’s definitely not black tea that sits in his cup. He gives you a look, and you smile wider as you put a spoon in yours and stir. 

“Everyone knows that about you,” you say. “But I know you like green tea, too. With a blend of white.” Your head makes a nod as you look at his bag, gesturing to it. “Are you going to put the bag down?” 

Raihan slowly removes the strap from his shoulder, looking at you strangely as he puts the bag down to rest on his chair. “I didn’t realize you knew so much about me,” he says, selecting the words carefully. 

“I don’t know anything you haven’t told me,” you tilt your head in curiosity, still stirring your tea. Raihan sighs and frowns, looking back at his cup. 

“I guess I didn’t realize that, either.”

“Does it bother you?”

“I don’t know,” He frowns more. “I think I tell everyone the same things. My friends the same details. It’s never really brought up, though.” When he finally sips his tea, it’s full of flavor but burns his tongue. 

Raihan drinks some more and he doesn’t even wince. 

You hum as you take in what he’s told you. “What’s in the bag?” You ask him instead of questioning him on the other topic further. Raihan looks across the table at you, your face surprisingly calm. 

“...I wanted to ask you something,” Raihan stands from the table, and you follow suit, waiting beside him as he ruffles in the bag and brings out his hoodie. The familiar, iconic one- clean and warm from the dryer. He hands it to you, waiting for you to take it as you stare at the article wide-eyed. “Could you put this on?” 

You look at him, utterly confused.” _Why?_ ”

It’s six A.M. That fact is somehow really solidified in his head at this moment that he stands in your kitchen, feeling oddly desperate as he gives you something that is _precious_. 

“I... Whenever I put it on,” his hand lowers, holding the jacket tightly between his fingers, “it feels weird. No matter how many times I wash it, it makes me itch. I checked for bugs, all that- but there’s nothing. So I want you to put it on and just- tell me if it itches.” He’s aware that the idea is weird, and Raihan is ready for you to call him crazy and that he needs to go to work- 

Instead, you take the hoodie from his hands as you tell him, “okay.” Your head nodding in a resolute way. 

...Okay. 

Raihan can’t do much but watch as you unfold the jacket, shaking it out and then move it behind you as your arms slip through the sleeves. You fumble for the zipper and struggle to latch it and pull it up, because the hoodie goes all the way down to your knees- if Raihan wasn’t feeling like a bit of his soul was riding on this, he would have laughed. 

But he doesn’t, and he thinks you noticed that. 

“...Itchy?” He asks after a few moments, once the hoodie is zipped up and securely around you. You lick your lips and purse them, nose scrunching up as you think- _cute_ \- and then your arms fall to your sides as you look up at him. 

“...Not really. It feels soft and comfortable- I’m not feeling anything itchy, besides maybe the tag on my neck.” 

Raihan sighs- his body practically falling into your kitchen chair as he sits down and lays his head on the table. “What _is it,_ then?” He groans, dragging the words longer than they need to be as he feels like he’s losing. Losing to what- he doesn’t know. But he’s _losing_. 

Your hand places on his back, rubbing gently until eventually you ask, “why don’t you put it on?”

He looks at you as his head lies on the table, cheek squished, and he rolls his eyes. “You know, I hadn’t tried that.”

You snort and pinch his back. “Just do it for me. I want to see something, too. I did it for you, so do it for me.”

Clearly, you have an idea. So Raihan groans some more as he sits up, watching you with half lidded eyes as you take off his jacket and hand it over to him. Raihan shrugs it on as he does nearly every morning, the jacket fitting him the way it always does. 

“How does it feel?” You ask. 

He waits. 

His face falls, and you fall down to squat beside him, a hand on his thigh as you balance on your toes. 

“I don’t get it,” he says, “it’s been bothering me all week.”

“Okay,” you say, taking a breath as you look up at him from your spot on the floor. Your hand starts to rub his leg- not in a way that’s suggestive or crude. It’s comforting- at least, it’s supposed to be. Raihan’s not sure how he feels at all in this moment. “But let’s think about it. Usually, you only wear it at work, right?” Raihan nods. “Right now, you’re only with me.”

He purses his lips, eyebrows furrowing. “That still doesn’t make sense.” You give him a look. 

“Raihan,” you sigh, “You’ve been acting off all week. Ever since we met at the park- do you think that’s just me? Or is it true?” 

His silence is enough of an answer. 

“I think there’s something bothering you, but I can’t tell you what it is. It’s impossible for me to know that,” Raihan almost scoffs. He’s not sure that’s true. 

You seem to know more about him than Raihan himself does, these days. 

Your hand around his knee, you shake him a bit. “So, do you think you can tell me?”

Raihan looks down at you again- and it’s odd. _You’re_ odd- even if that goes against what he said yesterday. He doesn’t think that’s true anymore. Because here you are, squatting beside him and talking him through something- whatever this is- at six o’clock in the morning. With his favorite tea on the table- getting cold, if he might add. 

_Who does that?_

He sighs, an elbow on the table as he sits up to prop his face in his palm. His fingers scratch at his cheek. “You mentioned how I never wear my jacket outside of work. And I guess I was thinking about how that’s true. And a variety of other things.” 

You shake his leg again, and Raihan smiles as he huffs out a breathy chuckle. 

“So many people stare at me,” he closes his eyes, “so many people are looking. The appreciation for it comes and goes. I like the attention, and I like my job. But it’s... it’s like my life is impersonally personal. Like no matter what I bring to the screen, to the people watching me- it’s Raihan, right? The great gym leader, Leon’s ultimate rival- Raihan who goes feral, Raihan who uses the weather, Raihan who takes a bunch of photos.” 

“Who wears the sweater?” You add, and Raihan’s blue eyes open and stare ahead of him. 

“...Yeah.” He snorts. “I’m not even making any sense, but yeah.” 

You shrug from below him, but don’t offer him any words. You just keep looking at him- so Raihan guesses he isn’t done explaining himself. 

“I guess...” Raihan starts, the words taking their time to come out as the gears in his brain process. “I like my job, but I don’t like... when the things important to me lose their meaning because of all the people looking at me,” his free hand wanders to his jacket then, once again feeling the material between his fingers. 

Soft and warm. Unstained, despite everything it’s been through. Raihan made sure of that. 

“I think I get what you mean. I can’t say I wholeheartedly understand, because I’m not in your position,” your other hand grabs his hoodie too, making Raihan once again put his focus on you as you smile so gently at him. “But I can make sense of it- I can tell why you’re feeling bothered. So do you know what I think?” 

Raihan smiles back, raising an intrigued eyebrow. “What do you think?” He asks.

“I think you should wear this when we go out for breakfast again tomorrow,” you tell him. “And I think you should wear it when you go to work today.” 

Finally, you stand- groaning a bit as you do and wiggling your toes. Raihan’s eyes follow you, lips forming a pout. 

“You’re not letting me play hooky, after all?”

You laugh, eyes sparkling again when you do, “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow,” you tell him. 

And oddly enough, Raihan believes you. You haven’t given him a reason not to. 

\---

He does as he’s told. Raihan goes to work, wearing the jacket as he always does- and things go smoothly. No one knows what happened this morning, because Raihan acts the same as ever. When the day is over and Raihan is back home, he puts the jacket back on it’s same hanger, and the gym clothes back in their same drawer. 

The next morning, he meets you at your apartment again. The hoodie wraps around him like a blanket, providing extra comfort against the chilly morning air. The break in his routine feels strange, but otherwise- not world shattering. You answer the door right away, and the two of you walk back to the diner you had gone to before. 

Once again, in the middle of your meal, you ask him the same question. “Are you feeling better?” 

This time, Raihan didn’t have any fruit on his plate- now it’s bacon, and the pancakes from before is replaced with a sweet chocolate crepe. The bacon crunches just how he likes it when he puts it in his mouth. 

“You know?” Raihan starts, his long legs stretching under the table and bumping against yours as he leans back in his chair. “I think I feel fine.” 

“Things feel a bit better when they’re put in a different context, don’t they?” You hum pleasantly with a smile, chewing on your own meal. “Not as suffocating.”

Ha. He gives you a squinty, wide smile as he shrugs. “Possibly,” he says. 

When Raihan reaches forward to grab his drink, your arm darts out and grabs his. His eyes widen in surprise, and you lift his arm a bit before you let go. “Nearly got chocolate sauce stains. Can’t have that.” You gesture to the plate below him.

He’s never been so careless. 

Raihan grins even bigger than before. “Thanks, mate.” 

His father would never forgive him if he got it stained. Thankfully, though, Raihan has you to help look after it just as much as he does.


	11. Hop - You and Me

...This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go- you- you were supposed to win. You’ve won so far- so why- now? Why’d you lose? How could you lose?

Thoughts swirled anxiously over and over in your head as you stood outside Raihan’s gym. Cinderace stands by your side, a paw lightly pressing against your leg probably as an affectionate pat, but you don’t really process it. Of course you knew Raihan was a difficult opponent- he had to be. You’ve heard so many stories and watched so many battles concerning his gym challenge just as preparation for this moment, so you could finally go to the championships.

You could always try again. You can try as many times as you want. But failing to get it on the first try- your lips tug into a frown as you look at the hard bricked floor and try to ignore how your mouth wobbles and how your eyes burn. No, you’re not going to cry. That’s pathetic. It’s just a loss, why would you cry- why would- why—?

You raise your hand to your forehead, digging your palm harshly against it as you grit your teeth.

“Mate!”

Uh oh.

Keeping your head hung low, you freeze in your spot as you hear Hop and the familiar sound of him running and blasting through the public space. Is it odd that you know the sound of his footsteps? You can’t explain it, but something about the sound is unique. Maybe it’s his shoes and their brand or something.

“Hey, Hop,” your voice is strained as it leaves you, and you take a deep, deep breath in- and then slowly exhale as you close your eyes and lift your head. The hand on your forehead moves down to pet the top of Cinderace’s head between his ears, and he positively hops at the affectionate touch. “What’s up?” You ask Hop lamely as your rival finally stops bumbling and comes to a stop in front of you.

“Not much! Besides everything, that is,” Hop laughs and sways back and forth on the balls of his feet. He moves to pet Cinderace too, who is just as happy to see Hop as you should be. And you are.

But you feel a bit humiliated looking at him now, fresh out of a loss.

“I was watching your match. It was really intense! But, uh,” a more nervous laugh leaves Hop this time as he scratches his cheek and looks to the side. “Well, I wanted to check if you’re alright is all!”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You smile quicker than you can think, the need to reassure that you’re definitely fine coming in strong and hot whenever you’re around Hop. Having him worry about you is the last thing you want- he’s got his own gym challenge to look forward to, after all! “I’m- I’m fine. It’s sad to lose, but I’ll get him next time.” The words are made as a promise as you give Hop a resolute nod.

But Hop just seems to deflate a little bit as his shoulders sink. His eyes look toward Cinderace, who still stands next to you with his paw on your leg. Hop knows better than anybody how strange it is to see the Pokémon standing in one place for so long. “You know,” He starts, “I’ve definitely had my fair share of losses. I’ve taken all the losses I can probably handle before my brain goes off and explodes, or something!” Gesturing wildly with his hands, he laughs that same nervous laugh again before his eyes soften and his hands come together to lace, resting at his stomach. “So I definitely know how it feels... to be disappointed like that.”

When you don’t say anything, Hop’s eyebrows furrow as he flusters, talking a bit faster. “And I don’t know- how you feel about it! That’s just what it’s like for me. So- so if you were feeling that way, I’d definitely get it! But maybe not. Maybe you don’t. Feel that way. Kind of presumptuous of me, really.”

For the first time since the match, you smile. It grows as you watch Hop blunder and ramble- and eventually you have to stop him as you put a hand on his laced ones. He looks up at you wide-eyed, shutting his mouth immediately, and you almost laugh at how quick he is. “Thanks, Hop. I mean it.” You squeeze his hands just a bit before letting go and petting Cinderace again instead. “I’ve been... honestly, I’ve been feeling really conflicted. And then I get upset that I’m upset in the first place, you know?”

Hop nods quickly, three times actually, and that time you really do laugh.

“So thank you for checking up on me. It does make me feel better knowing you have my back and you’re looking out for me.”

“Of course!” Again he nods, and his hands unlatch as they move to your shoulders, holding you firmly in his excitement as his eyes practically shine. “You and me- we’re in this together. It’s you and me, yeah?”

Cinderace hops up and down as he whines, and Hop giggles as his eyes squint. “Cinderace and Rillaboom too, of course.”

...Right. Right- of course. Your smile matches Hop’s as you give him another nod, but this one is honest as you feel sure of yourself. “Definitely!” Your smile turns into a grin as you lift your hands to place on top of Hop’s and he startles again at the contact. He’s so cute, always flustering at your touch.

“You and me!”


	12. Hop - Something Amazing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fake!Engagement AU! Ooooooo boy! 
> 
> (Descriptions of a panic attack)

There’s a lot of ways you could ask this question. Some good ways, some absolutely awful ways- it all depends on how you decide to approach him and how you formed your words. As you’ve found yourself backed against the corner, lacking all other options, you decided that as you ask this somewhat big favor, it needed to be formatted perfectly. The least you can do is make the idea seem appealing in some way, lace it and sprinkle some sugar over the idea to make it tempting. 

But when you’re finally alone with him, the perfect opportunity presented to you, you botch it all up as you ask in the lamest way possible:

“Would you want to get married? To me, maybe?” 

Hop elegantly spits and drops the several important books he was holding, one of them hitting him right in the foot as they fall to the floor. He yelps at the pain and almost falls over in surprise before you quickly rush over and catch him, the two of you making awkward eye contact as you hold him as if it’s a dip for a dance. 

To make it better, you drop him on accident. 

His back hits the floor with a hard ‘thud’ and your hands fly up to cover your mouth as you gasp. 

There were better ways to ask that question, and there were definitely better reactions to said question. You take half the credit for how horribly this went. The other half went to Hop and his lack of grace, because he’s always been like that, and you can’t control his explosive reactions to things. 

Except you know the man well, so you should have predicted he would’ve at least slipped. So, fine, you take two thirds of the credit. 

“I’m so sorry, Hop!” You apologize, and then you apologize again as he groans from his spot on the ground and he fumbles underneath him, holding a book that he most definitely landed on as well, “I’m so, so,  _ so _ sorry, oh Arceus,” 

“ _ Married? _ ” Hop coughs, sitting up and fixing the glasses that sit on his face. Thankfully, they didn’t fall off- you would’ve felt even worse if that was the case. His golden eyes are shining and squinting in confusion as he looks up at you- “why- why? ... _ Why? _ ” He sounds like a broken record, but you can hardly blame him as your body deflates with a sigh. 

Why, indeed. 

“You know how I’m from Hoenn?” You offer your hand and Hop takes it, his long and slender fingers almost engulfing your hand in size as you help him off the ground. Your friend nods at your question, beginning to pick up the scattered books, and you quickly move to help him. “And you know how I have really pushy parents who really don’t like that I moved here?” 

“Well, yes,” Hop comments, and he thanks you under his breath as you hand him the books that you picked up. “But that- that doesn’t explain why-  _ married? _ ”

You give Hop a sad look. “It’s not like I’m a fan of it either. My parents don’t control me, and I know that. I moved here for that very reason- to prove that they could never control me. But then some… legal issues came up.” 

“Legal issues?” Hop’s eyebrows raise. 

“It’s all bogus!” You practically explode as a reply, and Hop’s eyebrows raise even further up his forehead and you freeze. “Sorry,” you mumble, your tense shoulders going down as you sigh again. Truthfully, you haven’t been able to talk to anybody about your situation yet, so the stress is starting to pour out all at once and you have to try and reign it in. “I’m sorry I brought it up in such a bad way, too. Can we- sit? For a minute?” 

Hop frowns with a nod and the two of you descend the staircase in Sonia’s lab, heading to the table next to the entrance. Once the two of you have sat down, you explain to Hop as best you can. 

You tell him how your parents both owned a somewhat successful company that’s been passed through the generations, and because it was family-owned, you apparently had responsibilities as ‘heir’ to the company. You refused, moving to Galar just to prove how much you didn’t want to be stuck managing a Pokeball production company, and that’s where the trouble came into place for you. It didn’t matter how far you ran from Hoenn and your parents; because they had signed your name on pretty legal papers without you even knowing it that you would take their place once they retired. You could go all the way down to the place you grew up to talk with a lawyer to reverse those papers and their implications, but your chance of getting sued was higher than winning in court against your parents. You’re also not sure how much you want to go to court with your parents, anyway- the fact they signed something under your name without your consent was wildly illegal, but you don’t have the guts to punish them for it. 

This is where the marriage part came in. Your parents said that if you could prove you had a life in Galar worth living (in their old minds, that was a spouse with a successful job that could ‘take care of you’, maybe some children, or a fancy job you couldn’t get anywhere else like being the god-damn president of Marco-Cosmos or some impossible goal like that), they would take care of the issue themselves and leave you alone. So, that was your situation. 

Get married, move to Hoenn and work at your family’s company, or get sued. And you already told your parents that you were planning to get married this summer. 

When you’ve finally finished explaining to Hop, he takes a big breath and lets it out slowly with an expression that can only be described as a wince. “That’s… Mate, that sucks.” He says simply, and you couldn’t agree more. 

“It does,” you groan with a long frown, your hands folding together atop the white table. “So… I know it’s a lot to ask- but if… If you’d be willing to help me with this, it would mean  _ so _ much to me. And it’s not like we’d have to be married forever!” You quickly explain to him. “Just until they get rid of those completely-illegal papers. Once that’s done, we can get divorced and go back to being friends like normal.” 

Hop squirms in his seat, humming unsurely as his arms move across his chest. “___, I’d love to help, but…” His eyes go back and forth between you and the wall. “Are you sure you’d want me to help you? You said your weird parents are looking for a  _ successful _ partner. I’m not exactly sure I fit that description. I mean, if we talked about it, we could probably convince Leon-” 

(As much as it grosses him out to suggest such a thing...) 

You quickly interrupt him before he can even finish. His arms drop from their defensive hold, eyes widening in surprise when you steadfastly refuse.

“No!  _ No _ ,” a nervous fit of laughter escapes you, “no way. I am  _ not _ marrying your brother, even in this kind of situation. Like, sure, the fancy title of ex-Champion is nice and all, but it’s also…  _ Leon _ .” You shake your head several times. “No.” 

Despite himself, Hop finds himself laughing too. “Yeah,” he smiles, “that’d be a bit too much for me to handle, anyway.” 

(It’s embarrassing to admit how relieved he is by how much you hate that idea, too.)

“Glad we’re in agreement, then. And, honestly, Hop-” it’s a bit of a bold move, but you reach forward and grab one of his hands as gently as you can. His eyes widen some more and there’s a pretty blush on his cheeks when you do, and you’d tease him normally, but not now. “In my mind, you’re plenty successful. And even if my parents don’t agree- that’s not the point. I’m sure as long as I’m married, they’ll change their minds. And I-” now you’re the one blushing as you finally look away from his golden eyes, “-I  _ want _ it to be you. I’d- I’d be really… really thankful if it was you.” 

The suggestion- the mere idea of it was ridiculous and outlandish, you knew that. Of course you knew that- but you’re at your wit’s end. This is the last option that you feel could work to get them to leave you alone for good. 

Silence grows between the two of you, along with the tension in the room, tighter and  _ tighter _ as Hop takes longer and  _ longer _ to reply. As time ticks away, you grow more aware of the mortification growing in your belly and how you’re  _ still _ holding his hand- eventually you have to let go as you quickly curl into yourself as best you can and put your hands in your lap. 

...At some point, you’re somewhat convinced that you’ve broken your best friend. He’s probably trying to find a way to tell you he can’t- which- which is fine. That’s  _ fine _ , and you expected as much. There’s other people you can ask, really… So you’re not disappointed. Not at all. Slowly you stand from your chair, taking a deep breath as you bite your lip. “I get it- it’s definitely okay that you can’t. I should probably go before I make things even worse-” 

At the sound of your voice, Hop jumps in his seat, and he looks up at you with furrowed brows. Quickly, he stands up too- “No- I-” he stutters, gripping his chair so hard that his knuckles turn white, “no, that’s… I can do it.” 

Now it’s your time to stutter as you look at him wide-eyed. “R-really? You will?” 

(He can’t breathe.)

He smiles, wobbly and genuine as a small laugh escapes him. “ _ Yeah _ . I’ll- yeah, I’ll marry you.” 

In a rush of pure happiness and genuine shock, you jump in place and wrap your arms around Hop’s neck. He stumbles back in surprise, one of his hands wrapping around your back to keep you steady as you almost squeeze the life out of him. “ _ Hop!  _ Thank you- thank you so much!” 

“No- No problem! It’s not a problem!” Hop laughs, his face and ears feeling awfully hot, and his arms slowly wrap around you as you keep embracing him. “Happy to help,” he nervously swallows. 

(Definitely happy to help.)

——— — ——— 

Hop can’t breathe. 

It’s hard to believe any of this is real, honestly. Getting engaged to you- hell, Hop hadn’t even gotten the courage to ask you out on a date, and here he was, engaged. Under unfortunate circumstances, yes, but you’re  _ literally _ his fiancé. That’s a real thing. Technically speaking. 

It’s solidified when you bring him a ring from your house- a simple silver band for the two of you. For some reason, probably because Arceus wants to laugh at him some more, the ring fits perfectly, and just looking at your matching rings makes his belly do awkward flops. 

Eventually, you’re going to have to fill everyone in on your situation. Which is going to be even worse. Hop makes sure to appreciate the days that pass when no one knows. 

And then Leon comes to visit him at work and he ruins it. He ruins everything. Because like the dunce his brother is, he sees the ring, and he asks, “when did you get a ring?” 

And like the dunce that Hop is, he replies, “when I got engaged.” 

And he’s never felt his soul leave him so fast. An odd feeling that is, really. It’s as if he got frozen from the inside out, no warmth left as he just stands there and wishes that someone would come and push him over so that he’d break and shatter into a million little pieces. Sorry, ___, he couldn’t marry you to help you out with your crappy parents anymore, because now he is dead. 

Except he’s not really dead because he can hear Leon’s hacking and coughing as clear as day from the other end of the lab. 

“Just kidding!” Hop whips his head around fast enough that his glasses almost fall off as he looks at Leon, his face successfully several degrees warmer than it should be. “That was a joke!” 

“No, it wasn’t!” Leon stands quickly and rushes over, and Hop tries to back away but his left hand is already in Leon’s as his brother looks at the ring as if to make sure that it’s real. “It’s on the right finger and everything! Who on Galar are you marrying?!” Leon looks up from the ring to Hop’s eyes, and Hop still can’t breathe. 

“Um- u- um, I- I-” 

“Hey, Hop!” The door to the lab opens. Perhaps, Hop thinks, he really is dead, and this is just the unfortunate afterlife he was shoved into. This isn’t real. Surely that’s not you walking through the door, bringing him lunch like you said you would earlier today, in a text that he had completely forgotten about until this moment, “I brought you lunch!”

Surely not. 

Leon gasps as he drops his brother’s hand, and dramatically, he points at you. “It’s you, isn’t it?!” He asks gleefully, and he looks back at his brother with a big, stupid smile- “when did you-”

And Hop starts laughing, very, very loudly, “___! You brought lunch! Guess who knows about our  _ agreement! _ ” He enunciates the word ‘agreement’ and promptly elbows his older brother in the gut before he quickly runs away and over to you, taking the plastic containers out of your hands happily. “Can you help explain it to him before I go jump off the nearest bridge?” 

He’s not feeling like he’s kidding, but you laugh anyways as you hold up your own left hand, showing it to Leon. “Pretty neat, huh?” You sing happily, and Hop busies himself with setting up the table for lunch instead of focusing on how embarrassing it is that you sound  _ happy _ to be fake-married to him. Not real-married,  _ fake _ -married. It’s an important difference. “It’s all a ruse though, as sad as I am to tell you.” Your hand lowers as you place it on your hip. 

“A ruse?” His brother asks, and he walks over and takes your hand just like he did to Hop so he can inspect the ring. 

Hop leans over and smacks Leon away from you with a glare and his brother snickers. 

“Yeah. Hop agreed to help me out, really. I’m stuck in this weird moral decision to not throw my parents behind bars over legal complications,” you shrug, “but getting married is basically what’s going to shove it all under the rug. Long story short.” 

“Huh.” Leon says, placing his own hands on his hips as he stands still, taking in the information. His eyebrow hooks up as he gives Hop a look, “you’re really okay with that? Well, I guess you would be. Y’know, considering.”

“You’re hilarious,” Hop smiles, but his voice is strained and so is the smile. Instead of entertaining his brother further, he sits at the table and you sit across from him, opening your container and digging in. Oblivious to the tension your best friend carries and how he stares at Leon. 

_ I’ll kill you,  _ he mouths, and Leon smiles in return. 

“ _ Well, _ ” the ex-champion dusts his hands off, “I can see I need to leave the engaged couple alone so they can enjoy their lunch. And other things, probably, that need to be done in private,” 

“Ha  _ HA _ ,” 

“So I’ll take my leave!” Leon heads for the door and Hop lets out a sigh of relief- until his brother points at him, door open mid-way- “I expect you to call me later. Bye, in-law!” 

And then he leaves. Finally. You look Hop’s way, smiling as you take another bite of your curry. “So, looks like we’ll finally have to fill everyone in, huh?” 

Looks that way. 

——

Once you told everyone who needed to know (his parents and your shared friends), Hop knew for sure that he was in over his head when he first agreed to this. Because explaining it- having everyone jump in glee and surprise at the words ‘we’re engaged!’ only to deflate in confusion as you both hurried to say ‘but not really!’ 

You’d think the two of you would have found a better way to explain it, but you didn’t. 

Having to live through it, though- it was dreadfully awful. Not because Hop was saving it all- the genuine, lovely way that his mother first gasped and his father had frozen- the moment in his mind a beautiful picture that he definitely did not think about all the time. Because it’s not like Hop had only dreamed about this happening to him one day, and it’s not like it killed him when he could finally tell his parents that he’d found someone who loved him unconditionally, only for it to all be fake. As if Hop really needed to hand them  _ another _ reason to be disappointed in him. 

But no, they were proud. They were happy he was helping you. They told him as much. 

But he didn’t forget those reactions. He didn’t forget how their eyes glistened, and he didn’t forget how they shattered. 

Once that was all over, it was established that the two of you would be having a small ceremony just to help convince your parents that this was a real marriage with real love. True love. 

Except you didn’t love Hop, and Hop  _ surely  _ didn’t love you- but they couldn’t know that. So there was going to be a ceremony. 

You and him. A priest between you. Speeches filled with words- fake words, lovingly beautiful hoaxed words. And then you’d put on your wedding rings, and then you’d kiss. 

Married. You’d be married on August 10th. Isn’t that nice? 

A beautiful summer day. 

——

“I do  _ not  _ envy that kid.”

It was shortly after you and Hop had visited Hammerlocke where you asked everyone to meet up for your news that Raihan finally broke the ice. Leon sighed beside him, along with Sonia who was frowning into the cup she drank from. 

“It’s so horribly obvious,” She says. “He talks about them  _ constantly  _ at work. And he’s been a mess this past week.”

Nessa hums, crossing her leg on the park bench she sat on and letting her head fall back as her hair flowed through the breeze. “I guess you’d see it up close, huh? How he’s so head over heels.” She opens an eye to look at Leon. “Have you talked to him? It’s nice that he wants to help, but maybe it’s not the best idea.” 

Leon shrugs, crossing his arms at his chest. “Honestly, he’s grown up now. He knows full well what he’s getting into. But I did call him personally once I found out,” he purses his lips. “His denial is impressive.” 

Raihan laughs as he hangs his head low, shaking it back and forth. “You fucking suck,” he wheezes. “You should really try to talk him out of this.” 

“Shut it!” Leon shoves Raihan who sways just barely, “I gave him my big brother speech, but I’m done now. He doesn’t want me bringing it up, so I won’t. He’s been stifled enough because of me as is.” The ex-Champion picks up his own cup that sat on the table they all surrounded, and he downs the rest of the contents inside. “So he’ll do as he pleases. I’ll be here if it goes south.” 

Sonia hums, her shoe rubbing at the grass unsurely. “If you say so…”

“It’ll be fine. Trust me.” 

“Oh, sorry I forgot to trust the guy who’s never dated anyone before,” Raihan snorts. 

“Yeah but I could nail your mum if I wanted to,”

“I dare you!” 

“I’ve got her number, I could do it right now!”

Laughter fills the park.

——

As the date for your wedding nears, you bring it up more and more. As you would, because even if it’s fake, there’s questions to ask and things to prepare for. Obviously you hadn’t done this before and neither had Hop, so… how do you put together a fake wedding in the first place? 

“We probably shouldn’t invite anyone,” you say as you lean back on your couch, your feet propped up and crossed at the ankles on your coffee table. “Or should we? For pictures? Memories?” 

“Are you sure you’ll want to remember this?” Hop raises an eyebrow at you. He flips the pen in his hand, notepad sitting on his lap. “We’re going to divorce just a few months after it all.” 

“Well, that’s true,” you shrug, “but we’re still getting married. Shouldn’t we make it fun? It could be a party.” 

Hop squirms. “I don’t know,” he says, but his tone makes it clear and you smile at him reassuringly. 

“It’s okay to say no, Hop. It’s your wedding too, you know!” 

“Kind of.” 

“Not kind of. It’ll be legal and everything- we should both be happy with it. So no guests? Or pictures?” 

He bites his lip. He’d like to say ‘let me think about it’, but truthfully, there’s no time. Decisions have to be made now. “It might be weird if it’s just us and a priest. We may as well go to the courthouse if it was just that, so...” he comments softly, and you beam. 

“True! Maybe we’ll just invite a few people. Ten, tops.” 

...Ten is probably around the exact number of everyone Hop knows. He doesn’t know a lot of people. And he already knows everyone you’re going to want to invite- the only people it makes sense to invite- and Hop squirms some more in his seat as he swallows the bile in his throat.

“Sounds good!” Hop smiles instead of vomiting like he wants to. “We should find some chairs and stuff too, then. Order a pizza maybe. No cake.” 

“No cake,” you laugh. “That’d be too much. Maybe we can slice the first slice of pizza together, though?” 

“You better not put pizza on my face.” Hop frowns, and you burst out laughing. 

...He laughs a bit too. He can’t help it when you look so happy and upbeat. He should really be more like you- Hop doesn’t know why he’s so tense. 

“I won’t! I swear. As long as you promise not to do it either- we’re going to be married so you can’t lie!” 

“Of course. I’d never.” He gives you a promising nod, and then his eyes light up as he thinks of something new. “...Should we dress up?” 

“Oh, right,” you hum and look at the ceiling as you ponder. “Well, you  _ would  _ look cute in a tux.”

Hop furrows his eyebrows in worry, “I don’t think I even own a tux.” 

“...Me neither,” you snort. “But we should probably dress up, right? Especially if we invite people. Even if it’s for a pizza party.” 

He can’t believe his first wedding is being described as a pizza party. Probably his  _ only  _ wedding. 

Isn’t that funny? 

“I guess I can see if I can borrow anything from Leon… he might have something that fits.” 

“Great! I’ll look around, too,” and that idea absolutely doesn’t give him more of those awkward stomach flips that he’s been feeling all week. Seeing you dressed up and looking gorgeous as you stand across from him, kiss him? Hop thinks that there’s no way this could end badly as he anxiously fixes the glasses on his face. “Let’s plan more on how we’ll decorate the backyard- we can have the ceremony there! And then we should both get our clothes planned, then the food, and we can ask Raihan to be our picture guy so we’ll have something to show my parents-“ 

There’s no way that this could end badly. 

——

It’s August 10th. 

It’s 9:43am on August 10th, specifically, and Hop didn’t sleep at all last night. Not even a wink. How could he? 

He distracted himself instead. His suit that he borrowed from Leon has probably been ironed 50 times by now, his house is sparkling clean- cleaner than it's ever been, and he even emptied some boxes and threw away the things he’d been meaning to get rid of for months. Hop did possibly everything and  _ anything  _ he could just so he could stop thinking about how he was getting married today. 

It shouldn’t be a big deal. And it’s not. Because, Hop reminds himself again, you’ll be divorced and back to being normal friends in a few months, just like you said. Just like you wanted.

But what does Hop want? 

That’s why he’s cleaning. 

You decided that the party, the wedding, will take place at 2pm. That’s only a few more hours. The two of you spent all day yesterday decorating the backyard, so that was all finished. All you had to do now was step in front of the official looking people and make it... official! 

Easy peasy, Hop says to himself. He’s been standing still, staring at himself in the mirror for the past hour, and it’s  _ easy peasy _ . 

Then the doorbell rings. 

It doesn’t process at first, so the doorbell rings again, and Hop slowly raises his head at the sound. He looks at the hallway outside his room, toward where the sound came from- and then his limbs go into motion as he walks toward the door. Who could it be? Maybe it was you, wanting to check in with him one more time if he was sure about this, and Hop would say he was definitely sure and then he’d joke that he’s not supposed to see you before the wedding, and then- 

When Hop opens the door, his brother is on the other side, and Hop doesn’t think he’s ever fallen apart so quickly before. 

Honestly, Hop wonders if he broke a record. How fast the tears and snot came, how quickly and harshly he crumpled to the ground- it’s got to be worth  _ something.  _ With how fast he was breathing in, in, in- how couldn’t it be? He definitely broke a record of some kind. 

Leon holds him securely- squeezing Hop to his chest as he follows his sibling to the ground, and he lets Hop sob all over him as he stays quiet. Quieter than he’s ever been, because Leon always has something to say, but not now as Hop cries and cries and cries- loud enough that he’s probably notified all of fucking Wedgehurst that he was  _ definitely sure _ about this! Absolutely sure, happy to help. 

Happy to give you everything while he receives nothing? Yes. Because his whole life has been like that. 

So why’s he crying so hard? 

Leon’s hand is stable, heavy, and warm as it rubs Hop’s back. The movement is gentle and lulling, and Leon’s chest moves in a hypnotic matter as he slowly inhales deep and exhales just as deeply- over and over until Hop finds himself following along. Following along… he does that a lot. 

The panic spikes up again, and so does the hyperventilating, so they start all over again. 

Over and over, as many times as they have to, until Hop is simply shaking and exhausted as he’s cried all his tears into the fabric of Leon’s clothes. Which, he’s realized, is just a faded hoodie and some track sweats. Despite himself, Hop snorts and croaks. “You can’t come to my wedding if this is what you’re wearing.” 

Except that’s a joke. He can still absolutely come. Leon has to come, and Hop doesn’t care if he’s wearing only boxers. As long as he’s there. 

“Don’t worry,” Leon says as he loosens his hold on Hop, hands moving to securely hold his arms as he leans back and smiles at his brother. “I saved my fancy clothes for later, they’re with me. I had a feeling I’d need to be prepared for something like this when I came to see you. Aren’t I smart?” 

Hop sniffs and laughs when Leon wipes at his wet cheek. “I guess so.” 

“I know I am, you don’t have to say it,” Leon grins, and he grunts as he starts to stand, bringing Hop up with him. “Come on now, up you get. We’ve got a wedding to get ready for.” 

“Does it have to be mine?” Hop asks and Leon wraps an arm around his shoulders, walking them out of the doorway and finally closing the door behind them. 

“Afraid so, Hop. Afraid so.” 

——

Things are still scary, but it’s a bit more manageable with Leon by his side. The crying session was embarrassing, yes, but needed. Leon practically threw Hop in the shower afterward, which was also very needed, and then when he’s finished, Leon had cooked a hearty looking breakfast for them both. Which they demolish. 

It was mediocre and there were some eggshells in the pancakes, but that’s to be expected if Leon did all the cooking. 

Then Hop gets dressed in his suit that his brother lent him and puts in his contacts, and Leon coos and calls him handsome. Hop shoves him, telling him to quit it, but he appreciates it nonetheless. Not that he’d say that, really, but he thanks his brother genuinely for being here with him. 

Leon’s eyes soften at that and he mutters ‘of course I’m here’, and then they move on. 

Time flies a lot faster when it’s not just Hop and his muddled thoughts. Sooner than he’d realize, it was a quarter to 2pm, so it was time to leave. Leon asked him if he was ready, Hop said he was definitely not ready, and Leon laughed as the two walked over to your house. It was a short walk, which was appreciated, because they’re both walking in public with fancy suits on and Hop doesn’t like the looks they get. Especially from that one girl who was walking her Yamper. 

He could kill that girl for looking at him so funny. 

“I can’t believe you’re taller than me now,” Leon says with his nose scrunched up and a frown on his lips, right as they’re about to approach your doorstep. Hop smiles, his ego successfully lifted at his brother's words. 

“That might be the only thing I’m winning at with you,” 

“That’s not true,” Leon shakes his head with a raised brow, “you’re also about to get married. I’ve never even dated anyone.” 

Hop rolls his eyes at that, digging his hands as deep as he can in the silky pants pockets of his suit. “Hardly. I’ll get divorced before you too, so that’s really an achievement I’ll want to brag about to the family.” He scoffs and Leon elbows his side gently. 

“It doesn’t have to be like that, you know.” 

The two brothers are in front of your house now, but Hop comes to a stop when Leon does and he looks at him strangely. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It means that you’re in  _ love  _ with that person,” Leon looks toward the door, then back at him as he shrugs, “and you love them so much you’re going to marry them in order to help them out. But just because it’s a marriage of convenience doesn’t mean it can’t turn into something different.” 

Hop frowns at that. He hadn’t ever entertained that idea, and that was on purpose- he doesn’t need to get his hopes up, only to be crushingly disappointed. “We haven’t even dated. It’s- it’s ridiculous to stay married, even if they felt that way toward me.” Again, his brother shrugs. 

“Is it? Sounds awfully convenient to me.” 

“And so the marriage of convenience stays convenient… right.” 

“But it’s true!” Leon laughs, “look, I’m not going to act like I know what I’m talking about. I don’t. But don’t let this crush you. Everything has the opportunity to turn out amazing.” He places a hand on Hop’s shoulder, holding it securely as he looks into Hop’s eyes. Gold meeting gold- the two are practically identical, but so different. 

“Hop. You’re my brother, and I love you. And as your brother, I’m going to tell you something very important,” Leon leans in close, and Hop does the same. “You can make this into something amazing.” 

And then he slaps his brother’s shoulder, making Hop cry out in shock from how hard he hit with a look of betrayal on his face and Leon throws his head back with a barking laugh. The laughter is loud enough that you finally open your door, seeing the two brothers shoving each other on your doorstep, making you raise an eyebrow. “Look who it is!” You smile, their heads snapping toward you. You hold a hand out for Hop- it takes him a second to realize it’s for him, and when he does, he shyly takes it and you tug him toward you. “My husband-to-be and my brother-to-be. It’s about time you showed up.” 

Leon smiles brightly at you, skipping to meet you with a kiss on the cheek which you return. “Good to see you! And I heard there would be,” Leon lowers his voice, “pizza?” 

You meet his serious gaze, nodding firmly. “The best in town,” you tell him, and Leon whoops as he moves past you and Hop to enter your house. 

Beside you, Hop remains quiet, and it’s not until you squeeze his hand that he jolts in place and looks down at you with wide eyes. 

“You’re looking handsome,” you smile at him and Hop almost combusts. Why are you holding his hand, anyway? He’s sweating buckets. 

“Y-you too! Great- you look great. Really good. Better than me.” 

Hop sucks. 

But you smile even wider anyway, your own cheeks heating up in a beautiful way. “Thank you,” you say gently, and all of Leon’s words of advice from his apartment has flown right out of his head. Instead, it’s just- 

_ You’re in love with that person and you love them so much, you’re going to marry them.  _

“We should head inside, before the great Champion becomes Champion of eating all of our pizza.” You break through his thoughts, tugging on Hop’s hands as you make a step to go inside. Normally, Hop would follow you right away, but he freezes as he holds you tighter and keeps you from leaving. His eyes are wide, and you give him a confused look. 

It’s a miracle he doesn’t stutter, but he sounds desperate as he asks you, “are you ready?” 

The question makes you stop in your tracks, and you grow quiet as you look up at Hop. He frantically searches your eyes- hoping to find an answer in them- and he wonders if this is how you felt when he went quiet when you first asked Hop to marry you. 

But then your blush deepens on your cheeks again and your eyes grow soft as your thumb gently swipes the top of Hop’s hand. “You know… I think I am. You?” 

A breathless sigh leaves him. Along with it is all of his ghosts, fears, and doubts- because suddenly Hop feels so much lighter. “Yeah,” he says, nodding just to solidify his answer more. “Yeah, I think I’m ready too.” 

The two of you enter your house, smiling and blushing, and the door closes behind the two of you. Ahead of you waits the beginning of something complicated, weird, and amazing. 

Hop thinks it’ll be amazing.

He really does. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	13. Milo - Turffield Storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon on Tumblr: hello I would like a MiloxReader story please. (we need more milo content in this world) Maybe reader is helping Milo out on the farm, it starts to thunderstorm, so they take shelter in a barn. There's some hay, they figure they could be there a while, where it goes is up to you 😎

As you lift another bale of hay, the hook sunk deep into the soft straws and helping you heave and carry it over your shoulder, you look up at the sky and start to think that there are more clouds than you remember when you last looked. 

“Milo!” You call out, and from the other end of the field, Milo’s head raises to attention as he looks over. The two of you are surrounded by the vast fields of long grass and various crops, and beyond that is a fenced area with an abandoned barn that you and Milo are in the middle of trying to clear out. It’s old and dingy and needs several things fixed with the foundation and whatnot. “There’s only a few bales of hay left. Is there anything else that needs help?” 

Milo smiles, “nice work!” And then he stands up straight, hands on his hips and under his chin as he ponders. “I think that’s the most of it. Maybe look for any stray Pokémon hiding around and tell them it’s time to move out if you can?”

You give him a thumbs up. “On it!” You shout, and you let the hay fall off your shoulder and onto the pile with the others you had moved out of the barn. 

It was too much work to fix up something that’s old and moldy, Milo had decided. It was best to just clear it all out, get the materials that were still useful, and build a new barn somewhere nearby. It was a lot of work, so you (eagerly) decided to help him out. And it definitely was needed- with just the two of you, it’s already been several hours, and the sun that was blaring earlier made you sweat right through your shirt. The clouds that shifted by the past hour provided nice shade, though, so that was nice.

As you wander back into the barn, you swear you felt something drop on your neck and your eyebrows furrow as you look around, but you don’t see anything around you. So you shrug it off, walk in the barn and towards the few bales left sitting inside. Right as you sink the hay hook into the bale with a firm slash, a rumbling clap rings out in the air. 

Your eyebrows furrow once again, lips pulling into a frown. When you look at the open barn doors, you gasp- 

Because it’s raining in _sheets_ outside, the clouds from earlier now an angry dark grey as they encompass the sky completely. How could the weather change so quick? You suppose the sun had disappeared a bit ago, but this was a bit excessive. You drop the hook and dash toward the doors, into the rain- “Milo!” 

Your voice can hardly be heard over the sudden rush of storm, thunder clapping and thunder echoing as the rain pours, but you can see a flash of pink from ahead. And sure enough, it’s Milo- looking just as shocked as you as he runs toward the barn. Nervous laughter bubbles out of him once he makes it to your side and you quickly wrap your arms around his back, quickly leading him inside before you move to shut the barn doors so the storm doesn’t make it’s way inside. 

But as the building creaks and sways, you have a feeling it’s really up to fate if you’re going to stay dry or not. You, at least- because Milo is already looking like a drowned Rattata as he stands in the corner and wrings out his sun hat. “Gosh, Milo,” you walk over to him and bite your lip as you take in just how drenched he is. 

The Gym Leader meets your gaze and simply shrugs with a smile. “Pretty out of nowhere, huh?”

Another rumble of thunder with a bolt of lightning rings nearby, and both of you jump. You nervously laugh.

“My mom always told me to expect something unexpected every day,” you take Milo’s hat from his hands, moving to hang it up on one of the hooks in the wall meant for horses water buckets, but none are around, so it works just as fine as a hat rack. “So I guess this counts as today’s unexpected event.”

“Wise words,” Milo nods, crossing his arms at his chest. He looks like he’s probably trying to get comfortable, but it’s not really working. You can only be so comfortable when you’re in heavy, wet clothes. 

Averting your gaze, you look at the dripping ceiling. “Do you know how long these storms usually last?” 

“Considering how we weren’t supposed to have a storm today… It shouldn’t be that long. An hour or two at most,” Milo sighs. You trust his intuition and nod- an hour isn’t really that long, but at the same time, it kind of is. 

Because it’s just you. And Milo. Alone in a barn. And did you ever mention how cute Milo is and how he’s really nice and you like him a lot?

 _Hm_. A feeling like dread settles in your stomach as you cough. 

“At least we still have some hay bales in here,” Milo breaks through your thoughts as he heads toward them, but hesitates to sit on it as he looks at his situation. You hum. 

“You should probably- uh. You don’t want to get sick.” 

Milo looks at you, but you’re too busy looking at the floor and kicking the dirt. 

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says, and your head quickly snaps up.

“I wouldn’t be uncomfortable!” You quickly tell him, “plus, that hardly matters. You’re soaked to the bone and I doubt it feels very good.” Milo averts his own eyes now, hardly looking convinced as he furrows his eyebrows. It’s definitely not ideal to strip yourself in front of someone else… How can you make this better..? “I bet there’s an old blanket or something like that in here. I can look around for one- but. Seriously. While I look around, you should at least take off your shirt. You don’t want to get a cold,” you give him a concerned look- definitely not blushing as you tell him to remove his clothes, because why would you be blushing- and then quickly turn around to look around the barn. 

Since the entire building was in the process of being cleaned out, you doubt you’ll find much. But you have to at least try, for Milo’s sake and for yours. The first thing you do is climb the creaky ladder to the area up above. There was various items laying around, none looking promising. 

But as you scout around, you find a chest that’s been shoved into the corner and hidden away. You quickly trot over to it and, crossing your fingers, dust off the latch and open it. 

Laying inside is a bunch of old, miscellaneous items like candle sticks and even some pokeballs (all empty), and farming equipment too. It’s not until you get to the very bottom of the chest that you find- _yes_ \- a blanket! 

“Milo!” You call out in glee as you take the old cloth out, standing tall and letting it unfold as you whip it through the air several times to get all the dust off. You cough as some of it gets in your face. “I found one!” 

“Really?” Milo asks from below. “Where was it?” 

“In some chest up here. So I guess I found some more stuff to move,” you quickly move down the stairs- as quick as you can, actually, without fearing that you’re going to break it from how loudly it groans under your weight. As soon as you’re back on the bottom floor with Milo, you open your arms proudly with an end to the blanket in each hand as you showcase your find. 

Milo is very much not wearing a shirt, but you don’t focus on that part. Instead you focus on how Milo’s green eyes light up. “Oh! Would you look at that- I haven’t seen that blanket in years!” 

“You recognize it?” You ask as you wrap the cover around his shoulders. Your fingers brush against each other for a second as he grabs the ends and tugs it around him. The simple action surely didn’t make your heart skip a beat- not at all. 

Now that his shirt is discarded and he’s at least a fraction more dry, Milo sits on the hay bale and you take a place next to him. In the back of your mind, you’re grateful that it’s hay and not straw- straw is a lot more uncomfortable than hay is. 

“The barn’s been around for awhile,” Milo comments as he gets comfortable. “And so have I. I’m pretty sure this used to be the old gym leaders, I’ve seen it once or twice as a child. What else did you find?” 

“Some empty pokeballs, old candlesticks… a bunch of random stuff, honestly,”

“Sounds like him,” Milo huffs a laugh through his nose. “He was a bit of a hoarder. Not bad, though, considering it’s helping me now.”

You nod in agreement. Another strike of thunder and lightning is heard above- you and Milo both warily looking up at the ceiling as the building sways unsteadily against the harsh wind, and you unconsciously shiver, which doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“Kind of cold…” 

“Yeah,” you shrug, and you meet Milo’s gaze. He’s smiling awkwardly, tilting his head in such a way that- “No,” you quickly shake your head. “That completely defeats the purpose of the blanket. It’s yours, I’ll be fine!” 

“Are you sure? It’s- not _too_ big a deal,” Milo says, and you almost laugh. 

“What happened to you? You were just as mortified as I was earlier,” 

His face heats up a cute pink. “If it- if you’re uncomfortable- then I won’t push you! I just don’t want you to be cold!” The farmer shrinks a bit under his blanket. 

“You’re sweet,” you try your best to give him a reassuring smile. “Do you really not mind?” 

He quickly shakes his head. You’re not sure how to feel about how sure he is to ensure your comfort- offering you a blanket because you shivered even though he’s the one who’s still wet and shivering himself. You’re not sure how to feel about all of this, really- about Milo. And how kind he is.   
  
Biting your lip, you hum for a long time before it turns into a defeated sigh. “Fine. Open up,” you wiggle closer to him and Milo smiles as he lets you wiggle next to him, handing you the end of the blanket to wrap around yourself. Immediately, you feel the wet press of his skin against your clothes, but he’s surprisingly warm despite that. 

Warm, wet, shirtless Milo… Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. 

“Did I ever tell you about the time I first caught a fire-type?” 

Milo breaks the silence, and your head raises in interest as you look at him. “Really?” You ask, a bit surprised. “I didn’t know you had any.” 

He nods. “It was actually because of a situation like this, actually. Believe it or not, I’ve been caught in a few storms. So, I thought- it sure would be handy to have someone who could help me in these situations, or at least help me stay warm!” 

Milo proceeds to tell you a long and entertaining story about how he was a teenager, caught in a storm, and how he barely found a shed to hide in. He probably dragged the story on longer than it needed to be, and he did a lot of cute voices for the Pokemon and what he thought they were telling him when he was a kid, but it was appreciated how he completely caught your attention and whisked you away into his story. It didn’t feel as awkward to be pressed against him and it didn’t feel as worrisome whenever the wind blew on the barn again. 

Instead it was just the two of you, sitting together on a pile of hay as you exchanged various stories from your lives. Laughing at the wild things that happened to you both. You should have expected this out of Milo- he always had a talent for turning an unsavory moment into a good one. 

Though you’re having a feeling it’ll be awkward all over again when the storm finally settles and the two of you will have to untangle from your little warm hub beneath the blanket. But you’ll cross that bridge when you get to it. 


	14. Raihan - Weirdo Blurs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt: “You’re really drunk right now. I don’t think you’re gonna remember any of this.” “No, I’m not drunk at all. You’re just blurry.”

Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea, Raihan mused- officially trapped in the corner of the bar by your much shorter and much smaller body.

But you were determined. You were going to protect him no matter what.

“I-I’ve _got_ this,” you say as you stumble in place, your hands held defensively in front of you as you stood in front of Raihan. “These… these blurs have _nothing_ on me.”

“I think you’ve drank more than your tiny body can handle,” Raihan tries to laugh. He tries. And he tries to place a hand on your shoulder to get you to stop, but you snap your eyes up at him and he hesitates.

He can’t believe he’s being controlled by a little drunk gremlin. His hand goes back in his jacket pocket.

“That is- _not_ true-“ the hiccup is really convincing, “all of these _weirdos_ are after you, and staring at you, and I’m- I’m gonna- I’m gonna protect you it’s _fine_ you’re _fine_ -“

The ‘weirdos’ are the other patrons of the bar that you’re both in, who were staring at the two of you because- well- because it’s Raihan, first of all.

And because you’re swinging at anyone who comes close to him, which is weird, and raises a few eyebrows.

“Maybe we should leave,” he mumbles.

Surprisingly, you listen. Stumbling again, you grab one of his hands as you nod, “ _yes_ , great idea. I don’t think-“ you whisper, “I don’t think I can fight them all anyway so we have to leave before they figure that out.”

You’re drunk. _So_ drunk. But Raihan flushes darker than even you from the influence of your drink as you hold his hand and unsteadily lead you both toward the bathrooms. Raihan has to direct you toward the actual exit- he can’t take the lead, because you whine and wack him whenever he does, so he makes do with nudging you in the right direction instead. Which is fine, because he’s had a lot of practice doing this with Leon.

It’s a relief when you finally make it out of the bar, the night air hitting your hot skin beautifully. Raihan sighs, relieved. He tries to let go of your hand, but you lace your fingers tightly between his instead. So he supposes he’s not going anywhere without you anytime soon.

 _Hmmg_.

“Okay- okay. This is good,” you say, pleased as you look around and you don’t see anymore ‘weirdo blurs’. When you look up at Raihan, you smile in such a drunkingly-sweet way, and it has the man nearly stumbling himself because of how much it makes his heart beat loud in his chest.

“Can we go now?” He asks you, basically whining.

He didn’t want to go to the dumb bar anyway. It was _your_ idea. He just went because he wanted to hang out with you more. If Raihan had _his_ way, you would have been getting drunk in a more private setting. Like in his house. Watching a movie or something.

“Y-yeah. Right. Um…” You look around the parking lot of the bar Raihan had led you to. “Where are we going?”

It would be nice to watch a movie at his place, but you’re basically clinging onto Raihan to stay steady, and it’s… a lot. Having you so unashamedly close to him. He should really just bring you home.

“Your house. No blurs over there, right?”

“Right! Perfect. Just the two of us,” you smile at him again and squeeze his hand, and Raihan hates it. “Sounds great.”

He hates it. Really. Blushing just doesn’t suit him- it leaves an uncomfortable hot feeling on his face and a weird twist in his chest. He’d rather not.

But Raihan does his duty as best-friend. He buckles you up in his car, because you can hardly do it yourself, and then heads to the other side and drives you home. He basically has to carry you inside once you’ve arrived at your house, and that is totally fine and doesn’t make him stutter or anything when you wrap your arms around his waist and hold him close again.

You practically fall onto your couch once he gets you inside, and Raihan decides that’s close enough. You can sleep just fine on the couch. He doesn’t have the energy or mental capacity to bring you to your room- he feels like a bloody time bomb. Except he’s not really sure what’s going to happen when the bomb goes off.

“You’re so drunk,” Raihan mumbles as you squirm and turn as he tucks you into a blanket he found lying around- figuring that’s the least he can do, since you won’t be sleeping on your bed. “I doubt you’ll remember any of this at all, will you?”

He’s not really talking to you- more to himself, really, but you respond anyway. “‘m not drunk. You’re just blurry.” You giggle, and he deadpans.

“Right.”

“Come closer,” you whine and officially undo all his tucking work when you shove your hands out from under the blanket. He barely has time to react before you’re grabbing his head, tugging him close to you.

Raihan has to slap a hand down on the couch to steady himself before he falls into you. He stares, wide eyed, as you hold him so close he can see the stars dancing in your eyes.

“That’s better,” you smile again, sickingly-sweet. “Not blurry at all. Just handsome.” One of your hands drifts back to run fingers through his thick strands of hair, and Raihan thinks the time bomb is about to go off any second now.

He swallows thickly. “Right. T-thanks,” lame. Lame. He stuttered? Raihan doesn’t stutter.

Raihan doesn’t blush like a maniac either, but here he is. Blushing and stuttering- just mere centimeters away from your lips.

Pink, plush lips.

“Okay,” Raihan laughs, grabbing your hands and gently (a bit forcefully because you don’t want to let go) brings your hands down to your sides and back under the blanket. “That’s enough of that. I’ve done my part- you’re safe, you’re home. It’s time I go now.”

Ignoring your whining, he stands straight again and takes a good few long steps away from you. “I’ll text you, okay?” He says, already heading for the door because tick, tick, tick goes the bomb-

“Raihan,” you whine, and it’s just a touch softer than anything he’s ever heard and makes him freeze mid-step.

Slowly, slowly he looks over his shoulder- which he really shouldn’t have.

Looking pathetically small under your blanket, a hand reaching for him, your eyes still glistening- “Don’t go. Please stay.”

…Right.

Just what is Raihan doing, anyway? The gym leader isn’t surprised in the least that he ends up spending the night on your recliner chair, even though he’s too tall and sleeping on it cranes his neck in an odd way. What’s he doing?

He’s being a major simp for you is what he’s doing. Pathetic. But as Raihan finally, finally drifts off in your stupid little tiny recliner chair, his eyes find you in the darkness and how cute you look when you sleep.

And he supposes there isn’t anyone else he’d want to act so foolishly for besides you.


	15. Leon - Breathe (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for asphyxiation

Leon was Champion of Galar for a reason. The first reason being that he had earned the title, of course- he was unbeatable in Pokemon Battles. But he had lived up to the name in several other ways as well; he was a Champion through and through, with or without the battles. He was charismatic, he was kind, and he was loyal to Galar. He loved the country and the people with a fiery passion. 

Leon was the perfect man to slap on a family-friendly ad and yet had the body to be in a raunchy cologne one if he wanted to. But he always denied those proposals, of course, because he had an image he wanted to uphold and he didn’t want to taint it. Because of said-image, it was hard to picture the Champion as anything but kind, loyal, and family-friendly. 

Could someone be intimidated by him- in a way they could feel in their very bones? Could someone be _threatened?_

Of course not. He wasn’t that kind of guy.

To the public. 

But a variety of things have had a history of happening behind the scenes. People are complex creatures, after all, and there’s always more than what meets the eye. Especially with celebrities, who are keenly aware of the eyes on them- they have to manipulate their viewers just a _little_ bit- for the sake of their sanity and privacy. 

No one would believe you if you described the way you felt right now with Leon on top of you, his hair spilling over his naked shoulders and tickling your skin as he stared down at you, his eyes almost glowing despite how dark it was in your room. 

Intimidated? Threatened? 

Or could it be something more along the lines of _excitement?_

“Breathe,” He instructs you and you do so instantly, breathing in deep and slow as his hand wraps around your throat. 

The shine in his eyes darken, pupils dilating as his grip tightens and he cuts off your airway. 

A thrust. 

You moan, but the sound hardly escapes you and you curse inwardly at yourself for wasting some of the air you had left. Seconds pass with each heavy pump of your heart, getting faster and faster, and you feel Leon squeeze you tighter, and you do so in return as you bite your lip. 

He chokes out a laugh, raising an eyebrow at you. You merely smile even though your sight is getting fuzzy around the edges. 

“Very funny,” He rolls his eyes at you. Suddenly you can breathe again, and you suck in the air greedily, appreciating the lull in sensual moment he gives so you can regain your senses. It’s only a few seconds after you recover that you find yourself groaning, missing that intoxicating feeling that wrapped around you like a blanket. 

“Do it again,” you tell him, arms wrapping around his torso slick with sweat so you can pull him closer. Leon hums, thrusting again, deep enough that it makes you quake beneath him, trying to keep up. 

“Are you sure?”

“ _Yes,_ ” the response comes immediately, and it makes Leon grin. 

He looks at you that same way- the one that pumps adrenaline in your veins and an excited throb down below. His large hand comes back where it belongs, at home wrapped around your throat, and he instructs you one more time. 

“Breathe.” 

You don’t have to be told twice. 


	16. Leon - Three Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heavy angst, unresolved. sort of melodramatic
> 
> never going to truthfully finish this, so I'm putting it here lol and not on tumblr. this story doesn't rly... have an ending? its more like I stopped writing and that was that. but I want to post it anyways to prove that I wrote SOMETHING

It’s not often that Leon acts without thinking- and this was because of a variety of reasons. Good reasons. He was raised by an honest mum who told him to always think before he said or did something because he doesn’t want to offend or hurt others by accident. He should be proper and kind to others- always treat others how you want to be treated. 

Be considerate and kind, and you will get the same in return. And Leon was. He lived by an honest set of principles- when people thought of the Champion of Galar, they thought of a good man with a nice smile. 

Not the kind of man who sticks his tongue down his best friend’s throat, the taste of liquor and berries sliding between all the clashing of teeth. No, Leon doesn’t do things like that. 

Except for tonight. 

He doesn’t really know why- he doesn’t know what came over him. He’s never thought of you that way, not really. But tonight in the middle of another party that Nessa had thrown- like, probably the 6th one that year- he was enjoying his time. Enjoying it too much, maybe. 

Leon was enjoying the attention that came with taking another shot, he enjoyed you laughing with him (or at him), he just basked in  _ all _ of it. The environment had hot adrenaline pumping through his veins as he danced and sang, and the people cheered, and you clapped along. 

And you looked so good tonight. You always look good, of course- you’re an attractive individual. Leon had always known that. But there was something different- the alcohol messing with his head and making his perspective swirl in funny ways as you seemed to  _ glow  _ in the midst of everyone else. 

Eventually, Raihan had pulled him away from all the attention, grabbing one of his arms as you stood behind him with a hand placed on his back, and the two of you helped him make it past the crowd and toward a quieter area. Raihan had asked you to watch him and you had agreed. 

Your own cheeks were flushed and warm from alcohol, but you probably weren’t as bad as Leon. Leon honestly wasn’t that bad- he didn’t feel sick and he wasn’t  _ that _ obnoxious. He was sober enough to see things straight, at least. When Raihan had left the two of you to your own devices, Leon was proud to say that he was able to partake in an easy, nice conversation with you. He hardly stuttered, and he kept up easily with your jokes and comments. 

Then, eventually, he was kissing you, and that’s when things went south. Just a bit. That’s the first signal Leon was given that, perhaps, he was more influenced than he realized. But you kissed him back, and it felt nice, it felt  _ really  _ nice- and what was so wrong with feeling nice? 

A lot, actually. Especially when you’re rolling around with a close friend of yours, basically using them as a pleasure bag to kiss and grind against while you forget that there are consequences to your actions. 

Sleeping with friends is always tricky. And the two of you- no- you didn’t  _ sleep  _ together, but you got awfully close. The pleasure was there, the feelings. The desire. But you never crossed that line- no, because instead- Leon decided to cross another one. 

In the midst of moans and groans, hands twisting and pulling in his clothes and hair as he kissed all the skin he could see- your hands suddenly let go. Instead of lustful tugs, you pet and stroke your fingers through his purple strands of hair, a sigh leaving your lips as Leon sucked on the skin beneath your jaw. In that beautiful, tense moment as he began to practically purr under your tender touch, you whispered in his ear, 

“I love you, Leon,”

And despite the awareness in his mind, despite the hard weight that sunk in his stomach- he did the absolute worst thing he could do at that moment. 

Kissing you again, he told you, “I love you too,”

Even though those words weren’t true. 

——

It was Nessa who woke him up. And not kindly, either- his tired, hungover mind barely even registered the fact that his body was being nudged and prodded- so a kick hit him in the gut that had him wheezing as his golden eyes finally teared open. 

“Sorry about that, Mister Champion, but it’s nearly three in the morning,” Nessa bent over to look at him from where he lied on the floor. Leon winced as he placed a hand over his face- the light of the living room was definitely too bright. “You told me you wanted to go home tonight, so I’m trying to make that happen. If you’re too rough you can always head to the couch.” 

“No, no, thank you, Ness,” Leon groaned as he sits up- that’s when he notices that he was basically lying on top of you, who was just as passed out as he was. “I still need to go. Head home before I get yelled at-“ his voice leaves him quietly as he manages to stand, hovering over you as he looks toward Ness. “Help me bring them to the couch? Then I’ll go.” 

“Right,” she nods, and she grabs your legs as Leon wraps his arms around your head and back, and the two of them tiredly lug you over to the couch and drape a blanket on you. That should be good enough for now. 

Without thinking about it, his mind still bleary and muddled from the hangover, he hugs Nessa, gives Raihan a small high-five as he trudges through the trashed apartment, and then he heads home. 

Blissfully unaware. 

——

Leon doesn’t really think about it much the next day, not really. It’s all still a bit of a blur, and the truth is that Leon is a busy man. So when he wakes up, he doesn’t really have a lot of time to mull over his bad decisions last night. 

He gets a call from Rose right away and gets to work, despite the migraine he gets that morning that seems insistent on staying. Nothing really clicks- maybe for a reason. Maybe it’s a subconscious thing- his mind keeping the pain at bay. 

Until you text him, and the rush of what he’s done and the guilt he feels wafts over him like tidal waves. 

**You (3:46pm):** _ Can we talk?  _

Such a simple, innocent message. It holds a lot more weight than it should, especially for just three, measly words. Three words. That’s really all it takes, doesn’t it?

Three words. 

Leon texts you back- telling you in what’s hopefully an enthusiastic tone that of course he can talk and he’ll head to your place when his work is all done for the day. 

——

A small part of Leon is hoping as he walks to your house that maybe you don’t want to talk about last night. Maybe you were secretly way drunker than he was- and you didn’t  _ mean  _ to tell him something so personal, and you didn’t mean it at all, actually. It was definitely just something said in the heat of the moment. 

And- what is  _ love,  _ anyway? Really? Leon ponders somewhat desperately the closer he gets to your house. Love is- great, yes, and has many different meanings. Of course, you love Leon, and of course, Leon loves you in return- it’s a given, because of how close you are, because you’re best friends.

When he knocks on your door and you open it, hickies and marks badly covered up on your neck with makeup, a shining look in your eyes, that weight in his stomach drops again. Twists and twirls, gripping his senses as it  _ pulls  _ and it almost feels like it’s trying to drag him into the earth, where he belongs- deep in a grave, away from view, away from you, away from that  _ look  _ you give him. 

All of his nonsensical thoughts from before are squashed at that moment.  _ Yeah, right, Lee,  _ a voice echoes in his head as he smiles back at you, steps in your home.  _ You know better. _

He could argue against that statement. Did he really know better? If he really knew better, if he was  _ really  _ smart, he wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with. Wouldn’t be sweating so badly as he stands tensely next to your couch as you rummage through your kitchen, wouldn’t be dreading what comes next. 

Leon’s practically ready to vomit by the time you come back, accidentally bumping into him and laughing with a blush as you quickly step out of the way and over to sit on the couch, patting the spot beside you. 

“Thanks for coming over even though you’re probably busy, Lee,” you tell him, and he nearly winces.

_ Arceus, please don’t thank me for anything _ , he thinks. 

“I just wanted to talk about the party last night. I know it got pretty hectic and all that so I just wanted to, um, to ask if you remember… anything.” You bite your lip, the one that’s a bit swollen- no doubt because of him. 

He takes a big breath. 

“___, there’s something I need to be honest with you about,” The Champion starts- which he thought was a pretty good start, but your face already begins to fall. “I remember last night. And- and the…” He puts his hands together, his expression twisting, “...things that we did. And the things that were said- and- and I-“ 

“You didn’t mean it.” 

Shocked, Leon looks up to meet your eyes. There’s a certain look in them that he can’t completely decipher- it’s a mixture of conflicted, awful things. Too many things, really. And they all rage in the calm ocean of your eyes. 

“T-that’s-“ He bites his own lips, eyebrows furrowing, but you stop him from continuing as you raise your hand and shake your head. 

“It’s written all over you. It’s hard not to tell what you were about to say,” you shrug as if it’s not a big deal. 

The silence that carries in the room is somehow deafening. Suddenly, he can hear the thrumming of his heartbeat that makes his blood pump in his veins, the tick of the clock on your wall, the shuffling of your Pokemon nearby that sleeps in the corner. And it’s all so  _ loud _ . 

“Why did you-“ you cut through the awful, chaotic peace, your voice breaking just a bit as your eyes look toward the floor. You lick your lips, swallow a lump in your throat. “Why did you… why did you say that? To me?” Leon doesn’t say anything, but he notices the sudden space between the two of you on the couch as you back away, scooting as far as you can until you hit the arm of the couch. “Why would you kiss me after I- why would you do that?”

Leon can hardly breathe, his own line of vision falling to the floor, the wall- anywhere but you. His hands clenched in his lap, that silence from before once again coming as time ticks by, the gears in his head taking too long to turn. Before he loses his ability and the anxiety overtakes him, he says the first words that he can find: 

“...I’m so sorry. I- I have no excuses. I’m so sorry.”

It becomes more and more of a solidified lesson for Leon that three words are all you need to break a heart. 

“You can’t do that, Leon,” Your voice escapes you almost breathlessly as you slouch, your elbows digging into your knees as you hold your face in your hands, effectively shielding your expression from him. But your voice- “you can’t just- apologize and think that makes it  _ better _ . It’s  _ not _ better,” -your voice is so broken, and it breaks him, too. 

“I know- I- I know that,” he hears you sigh and he tenses, struggling to find the next thing to say- because he just wants to apologize again and he has to fight that urge as it crawls up his throat. There’s so much to apologize for- for messing it all up, for saying the wrong things, hurting you- for all of it. But you were right. No words he can give will make it better. 

So what can he do?

“What can I do?” He asks, desperately, his hands meeting in his lap and his nails dig harshly into the skin of his palms. “Please,” Leon says, his voice quiet, “I- I’ll try. I’ll try to make it better.” 

Another sigh leaves you, big and heavy as your shoulders raise. Slowly, you sit up, hands sliding down your face and your eyes stare straight ahead. He sees how bloodshot they are, how wet and bleary. 

All because of him. 

“You can’t make it better, Lee.” Your eyes meet his finally. Selfishly, Leon wished you kept that expression away from him. Kept it hidden behind your hands- because he really cannot bear knowing that he’s fully responsible for the stress in your lines, the stains on your cheeks, and the marks on your lips and neck. “You can’t help it. Neither can I. So… I think it’s best that you go now.”

“___-“ He finds himself ready to plead and beg- the mere thought of leaving now is almost terrifying. Because- what does that mean? Leaving you now? 

It- it was just a kiss. That’s all it was. You won’t want to stop being friends after a mere kiss, right? 

After Leon lied to you and grinded on your thigh- murmuring those words to you in ways that he didn’t mean as you squirmed under him?

It wasn’t that bad, right? 

“I just need time to think and process it all, Leon,” you break through his thoughts and panic, giving him a fake and wobbly smile. Trying to reassure him- him- that it’s okay. “You’re still my… my friend. Of course you are. It’s just…” 

“I know,” Leon bites his lip again and finally releases the white knuckle grip he has on his own hands. “You’re right. I know.” 

As Leon stands from the couch, he can’t meet your eyes anymore. It’s too much.

“And- I know there’s nothing I can do right now… but tell me. If you think of anything I can do- anything at all,” Leon says, “I’ll do it. I promise.” 

“Right,” you smile. 

It’s silent as Leon leaves. The same kind of silence that’s so quiet it’s almost thundering, booming in his skull as it tosses around the guilt and regret he feels, bouncing so harshly in his head in a way that doesn’t help at all with his migraine. The pain is enough to make him wince- truthfully, he thinks as he walks down your block and toward the train station- maybe he should get some painkillers. 

Maybe. Sort of seems like a waste of money, though. It’ll go away on its own eventually. 

——

Some part of Leon was convinced this would be resolved by the next day. But when he woke up to no new messages on his phone, he thought- no, that’s a little fast. Definitely by the end of the week, though. Surely. 

No. 

No, it wasn’t resolved by the end of the week, unfortunately. He hadn’t gotten any messages from you, and you hadn’t spontaneously appeared at his doorstep saying you forgive him as he daydreamed about sometimes. The itch to message you first bothers him more often than he’d like to admit. 

To push you along. But that’s just- that’s… 

This whole ordeal is showing sides of Leon that he wasn’t even aware he had. It’s bothersome. It’s ugly. 

He’s not quite sure what to do with himself when two weeks pass. Because  _ two weeks _ \- that’s a long time, right? And the more time that passes, the more he feels himself falling apart. And falling apart for everyone to see, really, which is awful. He has an image to uphold but the stress of not being able to talk to you, hear from you, see you- it has him scrambling to pick up the pieces. 

People have seen the dark edges under his eyes, and the way his body sags when he thinks no one’s looking. Leon has begun to stutter more, too- his brain half awake and half dead, barely able to put together simple sentences all day like he usually does. He’s forgetful, even about the things that are so important to him that you would have never thought he had the ability to forget them in the first place. 

Leaving his signature cap at home and not even noticing it until a fan pointed it out was a new low Leon didn’t know he could achieve. 

He starts to wonder after it’s been a month of not seeing you why this is bothering him so badly. 

Maybe it’s because he knew better- and he knew that he knew better, and yet he did it anyway. He made a mistake. But Leon doesn’t make mistakes- Leon doesn’t lose- so perhaps he’s just not used to it. 

Surely this will all be over soon enough. That’s all Leon can hope for. 

\---

What if Leon loved you?

The desperate thought comes clawing, scraping in his head desperately. 

What if Leon loved you and he just didn’t know it yet? You’d forgive him if he loved you, right? 

And then he has to smack his head against the wall, shoving those thoughts out before they begin to sink and corrupt him like a virus. It earned him several stares, but that’s okay, because he’s been getting a lot of those lately. 

Leon can’t think like that. It’s an awful thought. He can’t try to squirm his way out of his mistake by trying to convince himself he was in love with you. He wasn’t. He knows that he’s not. 

But what if?

The next slam hurts more than it did the first time, sending painful throbs through his skull. 

\---

Leon wasn’t sure if he loved you romantically or not, but he sure did miss his friend. 

The way you’d always listen if he had an issue, the way you smiled, and cheered him on when he was training with his team and getting ready for a new battle. The way you brought him coffee when he had a late night at work. 

You were a good friend. One of his best. 

  
And he’s just sorry that he fucked that up with you. He misses you dearly. 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> congrats for getting to the end of this shitty fic lmao I'm sorry its so bad but u made it! to the ending that isn't an ending! congrats. ugh.


	17. Piers - Lovesick Puppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> angst drabble based on the prompt “Yeah, well, I shut everybody out. Don’t take it personally. It’s just easier.”

There’s a lot of things that bothers Piers, but he puts up with them anyway. He’ll complain aloud about some things, but not all things. Some things that irk him he’ll keep to himself, because he has a conscience and he knows how to shut his trap so he doesn’t hurt anyones feelings. Growing up with a sibling will do that to you.

And you- you. He doesn’t know how to feel about you, exactly. He feels bothered, but that’s because- because of how unashamed you are. You like Piers, that much is obvious. It’s not hard to tell who likes Piers and who doesn’t like Piers- because people have a habit of telling him upfront and acting cold if they don’t favor him. And Piers is used to that. The people who do put up with him, who like him- they’re a stark difference to the glares he gets sometimes.

You don’t glare at him, and you laugh at his jokes that barely qualify as jokes, and you listen to him genuinely when he complains.

No one does that. So Piers has put the pieces together that you must fancy him, and he’s not sure what to do with that information.

So he pushes you out.

At first, you don’t seem to get it. You probably make up excuses for why he was rude to you when you invited him out for tea, why he won’t return your texts even though he read them. That’s how it usually starts- denial. And then it starts to get uncomfortable.

Because neither of you are giving up. You’re not showing signs, anyway- until you ask him plain and simple one day.

“Did I do something to upset you?”

It strikes a chord. Piers is surprised you finally said something, and this is a great opportunity to clear the air that he doesn’t want you following him like a lovesick puppy anymore.

But, like puppies do- they bring out those big, wounded tearful eyes, and it makes Piers hesitate.

“Why are you shutting me out?” You ask, and it sounds desperate.

“You didn’t do anything, so don’t think like that,” he decides he’ll clear that up, first. He can’t have you feeling bad for yourself when you didn’t do anything wrong. “Listen… Don’t take it personally. I shut everyone out- ‘t’s not just you…” Piers shrugs, eyes flitting away from you and your sad expression. “Just easier that way.”

“Easier?” You scoff. “For who?”

That’s a good a question as any. Is it really easy to push you away in the first place? You’re kind of insistent.

“Hardly sounds fair, Piers,” you shake your head, a pout on your lips as you sigh. “Can you give me more of a reason than that with why you don’t want to be friends with me? Not- not everybody else, but me.”

He looks back toward you, and you look oddly determined, even though you’re heartbroken. It almost makes him smile- because how in character that is of you.

“I suppose I don’t really have one,” Piers shrugs again, hands in his pockets. He kicks a pebble that sits next to his shoe, and the rock goes flying, bouncing several times off the sidewalk. “Like I said, it ain’t nothin’ personal. I just prefer my life this way.”

It’s not a very satisfying answer, and your posture says as much as your shoulders drop in disappointment and your frown digs deeper in your cheeks. But Piers can’t give you something satisfying- he’s not gonna lie to you, make some tale up that will keep you hopeful. That’s just cruel.

“I guess if you feel that way, I can’t change that,” you sniff. The sniff is what sets him off, and his eyes widen as he sees your eyes water.

What.

“B-but,” oh good, now you’re stuttering, “if you ever feel different- then… Then you have my number.”

Piers isn’t sure why his gut clenches and twists in a nauseating way when you finally turn around, walking away from his side. He just knows that the feeling is a bad one that he’d rather not have, and he’d like it if his eyes weren’t glued on you as you get farther and farther away.

But that’s just life. The nausea will pass eventually. Piers shakes it off, and he goes back home; where his small, cherry-picked life is waiting for him, comfortable and safe.


	18. Raihan - Nicknames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”/ “I think about you all the time, it’s freaking annoying.”

You’ve known the Dragon-Type Gym Leader, Raihan, for a long time. He’s got quite a few different names, actually, which was pretty interesting. The Tamer of Dragons, The Dragon Lord (that one always made you snort), or even The Great Raihan. In a way, he _kind of_ fits those names, but you just like to stick to ‘Raihan’, ‘Rai’, or ‘Daddy Long Legs’. 

He hates it when you call him that last one, so you make sure to use it often. 

You can easily call Raihan one of your best friends. Though time has a history of bad effects on some relationships, you don’t think that’s the case for you and Raihan; the more time you spent together, the more your friendship solidified and became reliable and comfortable. You didn’t ever get bored or tired of Raihan, and despite your first initial anxieties that he’d get that way towards you, he didn’t. So the two of you are best friends, though and through. 

And that’s exactly where your problem lies. 

Raihan is your best friend, so- you can say confidently that you know him pretty well. And you know that Raihan isn’t the most enthusiastic about relationships- deeper, romantic ones. He likes to indulge himself every so often, but whenever you talked about crushes or something like that with each other, he always seemed distant and reluctant about entering a serious relationship with another person. The only reason this created a sense of unease in your stomach is because- well- _lately_ … You’ve found yourself liking him a bit more than you used to. 

You’re not sure when it happened. You just realized one day that maybe you stare at him for just a bit too long, maybe you’re just a bit too excited whenever the two of you are able to hang out, maybe you stay up with him a little too late on the phone when he calls. 

Realizing that perhaps you have a crush on Raihan- it created a fit of anxiety within you. Because falling in love with someone you’re so close with- when did that really ever turn out well? Sometimes it worked, if you were _lucky_ , but you don’t really think the word ‘lucky’ describes you very well. And then there’s the fact that you’re keenly aware that Raihan is definitely not interested in you like that. 

Even if he was, you know he doesn’t like deep relationships- and you’re not sure how comfortable you are with being a fling or thrusted into a ‘benefits’ type situation. 

So, once you realize your feelings, you do your best to squash them before they have the opportunity to get even worse. You drill the fact that Raihan doesn’t like you and you _can’t_ like Raihan deep into your skull; you remind yourself over and over that you aren’tin love with him and you’re just _friends_. 

And that’s fine. You’re happy to be his friend. That will always be the truth, regardless of the little hiccups along the way. 

Usually, though, hiccups don’t last this long, and they don’t hurt this badly. That’s something you’ve come to realize as time has passed. 

Because, _hiccups_ \- they’re temporary things. Unexpected bumps in your throat- and sure, sometimes they can hurt and leave a funky ache in your chest- but hiccups are supposed to go away after a quick glass of water or something like that. 

And this particular hiccup isn’t going away. So it’s probably time to stop calling it that. 

You’re not sure what to call it. Torture? That’s a bit too brutal. What about ‘agonizing, lovely, awful torture’? Still a bit dramatic. 

It’s a _problem_ is what it is. You know what? It’s almost like a virus, actually. Because it started out as just a tiny problem- a little crush, and then it slowly spread throughout your body and created lots of other problems in it’s wake. Problems that are getting _worse_ as time goes on. 

Things like how your body will tingle and ache when Raihan hugs you, how your face will burn when he compliments and teases you, how you don’t even know how to look at him correctly anymore without giving away that you’re slowly falling in love with him. Which wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with The Great Raihan, The Tamer of Dragons, The _Dragon Lord_. 

You were supposed to just be _friends_. So what happened to that? 

—

You know Raihan is starting to suspect something is wrong with you. He has a way of accidentally clueing people in that he’s thinking about something or that he’s curious. It’s the little way he lifts his left eyebrow, his lip quirking up with it, and his head will tilt just a tiny bit. It’s a subtle tell. 

You kind of hate that you’ve stared at him long enough that you can recognize such meager things. But it helps you, regardless, because it lets you know when you’re being a bit too obvious and you should leave before he starts to ask you questions. 

Except you can’t really leave without giving him more questions right now; because you’re hanging out at his house, planning to spend the night as you drink together and watch movies, and if you left now, that wouldn’t be any good. He’d certainly grill you about it tomorrow, and you’re not sure if you’d be able to come up with a good enough lie as to why you ditched him. 

“So,” you clear your throat, trying to look away from his gaze on you as you lean on his kitchen counter, beer bottle in hand as it leaks wet condensation on your hand. “Tell me more about your challengers this year. Anyone catch your eye?” 

Raihan hums, lifting his own bottle to his lips and you definitely don’t watch as his throat moves when he takes a drink. “No one in particular yet,” He tells you. “I did hear one of the challengers really gave Melony a run for her money, though, which is pretty interesting. She’s a tough lady- I look forward to seeing who can battle so well against Ice Types, considering they’re one of my team’s weaknesses and all that.” 

You nod along as he speaks, and you try not to look bothered when he crosses the counter and leans on it, same as you- right in front of you, actually. Which would only make sense, considering you’re talking to each other- you want to look directly at the person you’re speaking to. But does he have to lean in so close? 

“That’s a good point,” you take another drink to distract yourself from his piercing eyes. Maybe it’s not really a good idea to drink with him in the first place, considering he already makes your stomach do pathetic flustered flips, but it’d be odd if you rejected it now. “Besides the frivolous chit-chat, as much as I love talking about your work- I want to see the movie you picked out.” 

“Of course,” Raihan grins, leaning off the counter and leading you into his living room. Not like you need to be led, considering you’re more than familiar with the layout of his apartment. “So, I know you hate horror,”

“Raihan,” you groan before he can even finish, and he laughs as he shows you the case of the movie.

“Okay, but we have to! It’s a classic, and it’s not that bad. It’s old, so the effects look shotty to begin with. You’ll be fine,” he assures you, but you doubt he’s being honest. He’s lied to you before to get you to watch horror films with him. You purse your lips, crossing your arms together, still holding your drink between your fingers at the rim. 

“You just want to see me scared.”

Raihan turns from you, putting the disk in the player, and you huff. “ _Maybe_ ,” he singsongs, “you can cuddle into me and hide if it’s too much, don’t worry!” 

You fall against his couch and roll your eyes, trying not to let him see you blush as you lean against your hand. “In your dreams, long-legs.” 

“I like that better,” Raihan hums and sits next to you, said legs already taking up a lot of space as he crosses them. 

“Ah, sorry. Daddy long legs.” 

“I guess I deserve it if I’m making you watch this,” he huffs, and you smile. 

“Exactly.”

The movie starts, the two of you quieting your banter as the intro scene plays. But you’ve always been chatty during films, especially when it’s horror- talking helps ease your nerves as you groan loudly at the screen, and Raihan absolutely thrives off some of the comments you make, so it’s a good time overall. He also makes some jokes and crude comparisons to the things on screen that makes you laugh, so that’s nice, too. 

Despite your nerves and your growing affections for the man sitting beside you, you try to remember these moments. He’s your friend- your _best_ friend. Even if he doesn’t love you like that…

You sneak a look at him during a particularly slow moment in the movie. His eyes are focused on the screen, face lit up blue from the screen, and he laughs at one of the jokes that’s made in the script. You quickly chuckle, turning away from him so he doesn’t catch on that you weren’t paying attention- and your stomach does that funky flip again. 

Even if he doesn’t love you like that, at least he loves you at all. You should be grateful for that. For what you have. 

Before you even realize it, the movie is over, which is surprising. Usually you can’t wait for the ending, but you were zoning out in your thoughts so much that you didn’t even realize the credits were rolling until Raihan leaned forward, grabbing the remote and turning the TV off. It’s significantly darker in the living room without the light of the television, but you can still make out those blue eyes when he looks your way. 

“So,” he relaxes back on the couch, one of his hands grabbing at his knee and the other rests in his lap. “You’ve been weird.” 

You snort. “If you wanted to get my guard down for a talk about feelings, you should have chosen a better movie.” 

“Would it have mattered?” He raises an eyebrow. “You hardly even reacted to most of it.” 

You suppose you can’t argue with that. 

Raihan shrugs, sighing a bit through his nose as he turns his head away from you. For that, you’re glad, because he just looks too intense when he looks you in the eye. “Figured I’d give you an opportunity, since you’re not bringing it up yourself. Don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” 

You frown. You’re still holding your beer bottle, now empty, and you place it on the floor before you lift your feet up on the couch and criss cross. “It’s not a very big deal, Rai,” you tell him softly. “Honest.” 

“Doesn’t matter if it’s a big deal,” Raihan looks back at you, “we’re mates, right? Doesn’t have to be a big deal for you to tell me.” 

There’s little room to argue with that. He’s right, and you know that, but this is different. Your shoulders drop as you purse your lips. “I don’t want to bother you with this,” you say, and Raihan just laughs through his nose. 

“You once called me in the middle of the night because you felt something weird on your bum and you acted like it was the end of the world because you had bum-cancer.” 

Without even thinking, you grab a pillow on the couch and you hurl it at him full strength. “That was a valid concern! And I told you that you’re not allowed to bring it up ever again!” 

Raihan barks out a laugh, giggling like a child as he grabs the pillow you threw at him and he tosses it back. You smack it on the floor, making him laugh harder. 

“My point is, we’ve been close, yeah?” He says once the giggles finally end, and he smiles at you so genuinely that you have to look away. He notices. “That’s it. You keep doing that. Why?” 

“Doing what?” Acting dumb. Grade A plan, sure to work. 

Though you can’t see it, you can hear how he rolls his eyes based on his tone. “You keep acting distant. Looking away from me like I’ll jump you or something.” 

That’s funny. You actually want him to jump you, but, you know. In the cute, kissy way. 

Why’d you think that? Shut up. You shake your head, as if that will shake away the thoughts as well. “It’s not that,” you tell him. There’s a dread building up in your chest once you do- because you know where this conversation is going. 

Raihan is nice and respectful of your boundaries, and he’d never make you tell him something you’re not comfortable sharing. The issue is that he’s _too_ nice, and it makes you want to tell him that much more. Because he deserves to know, right? 

There’s really only a few ways that this conversation would go. You know- _you know_ that the next thing he’ll say is going to be something like ‘ _then what is it?_ ’ 

“Then what is it?” He asks, and you curse yourself. You knew it would be a bad idea to hang out. 

You finally look at him again, biting your cheek as your eyebrows furrow. “Raihan,” you shake your head again. “I can’t.” Your voice is soft- a whisper, at best. 

Truthfully, you didn’t notice how your hands began to tremble in your lap- but Raihan did. His lips tug into a frown. 

“Why?” 

You huff, and he shrugs. 

Maybe you should rip off the bandaid and get it over with. If Raihan has figured out that something’s been bothering you, and if you leave the conversation tonight without telling him what it is, you know he’s going to pry it out of you eventually. It’s only a matter of time, now. 

“You really wanna know, Raihan?” You hold your hands in your lap, trying to get them to stop shaking, and Raihan nods. _All right_ , you think with a deep breath, _this is it_. Time to tell him and have the awkwardest rejection of your life.

You don’t have the guts to look at him, so you look up at the dark ceiling, and honestly, your eyes are already burning. And you’re definitely not going to cry. Despite that, you sniff, and your voice leaves you shakily, “I think I’m in love with you, and that terrifies me.” 

It’s quiet, and a rush of anxiety courses through you again. You stutter and stumble as you try to explain yourself. “I- We’ve been friends for so long. And- and I’m not- not interested in ruining that. I don’t want to ruin our relationship. Because- well, because I love you,” you laugh, “and I- I don’t want to ruin it by getting all weird and reading into things. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, either.”

Finally, you lower your head and let it hang as you sniff again and lift a hand to run through your hair, ruffling through it harshly. _Come on_ , you think, _get it together._

It takes a lot of courage to look at him- and you honestly don’t have the courage, so you basically just turn your face his way and then stare at the couch cushions instead. “…Sorry,” you apologize weakly, though you’re not sure why. 

From your peripherals, you see him uncross his legs, his body leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He sighs, which doesn’t really make you feel good as you quickly look to the floor instead, even further away from his eyes. “You don’t need to be sorry about that. Not like you can control your feelings,” Raihan finally speaks. “That would just be silly.” 

You shrug. 

“I guess I can understand why you didn’t want to tell me,” He continues, his hands coming together and rubbing before he entwines his fingers, cracking his knuckles with a swift movement. “Would you like to hear something funny?” 

Your eyebrows furrow, suspicious. “…Sure.” 

“Well, it’s funny for you, maybe, but it’s been annoying for me,” Raihan chuckles. “It really is. Cause the thing is, I think about you all the time. So much that it bugs me. It’s distracting, too, cause you really shouldn’t be popping up in my thoughts the way you do when I’m trying to ride on Flygon. That’s just dangerous.” You finally lift your eyes to meet his, and he shrugs with a smile when you do, his pointy tooth looking odd when his face is so soft and bashful. “You do anyways.” 

You squint. 

Raihan rests his face in his palm, laughing gently under his breath. You’re both in a weird staring contest, as if it’s a test of wits. He reaches forward as you stare, and before you realize what he’s doing, he flicks your nose. 

You jolt back in shock. “Hey!” 

Raihan just laughs, his nose scrunching up and his eyes squinting as he chuckles. “What I’m saying is, I think you’re not alone with your feelings. Either I’m a creeper for thinking of you so often, or I love you, too.” He raises his brow. “You pick which one sounds more appealing to you.” 

“Don’t joke around, Raihan,” you can’t help but sigh as you rub your nose. 

“Sorry,” surprisingly, he apologizes. Which is odd, catching you off guard as he finally looks away from you. “I’m not real good at this, either.” 

“Raihan…” You softly call his name, and he purses his lips. There’s no other way to describe his demeanor other than ‘shy’, which is never a word you’d think you would use to describe him. 

“The feeling is mutual, is what I’m saying.” 

You almost want to laugh. “What happened to not liking serious relationships? Would- do you still feel that way?” You can’t help but ask him. Just because- wow- maybe he loves you, doesn’t mean that’s changed. 

“Well, I’ve never loved anybody before.” Raihan lifts a hand, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as he finally stops slouching over his knees and straightens his posture. “But if you’d be into it…” He trails off. 

…Hm. Slowly, your hand reaches forward, and you grab Raihan’s as gently as you can. It makes your heart speed up a bit, and Raihan’s eyes snap toward you when you do- but you smile. “We can go slow. See what happens. If it doesn’t work for you- I’m still going to love you.” You tell him, honesty in your tone. “I can’t expect you to be the world’s best boyfriend if you’ve never even thought about being one before.” 

“I’ve thought about it sometimes,” he mumbles, and his hand is absurdly long in yours- you notice it even more when he fumbles with how small you are before squeezing your palm. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?” 

“Yeah,” you nod at him. Surprisingly, you’re honest- you feel sure of yourself. “You’re my best friend, Raihan. You’ll always be my best friend, no matter what happens.” 

Slowly, he smiles back, and it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. In the back of your mind, you realize that Raihan is actually a sweetheart, and you wonder how he’d react if you added that to his long list of nicknames. 

Perhaps you’ll try it out. 


	19. Sonia - Shooting Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Shooting star. Make a wish.”

Sonia had been eagerly chatting your ear off this week, all for this moment. It was an understatement to say she was looking forward to tonight- but her excitement helped jumpstart your own. There was a massive meteor shower tonight; and apparently, it was a shower that has historical value, as it had a mystical repetition of showing up on the same day every hundred years.

You have no idea what that’s supposed to mean, but it excites Sonia, so you’re excited too. She wants you to come and watch the stars with her (not stars, meteors, she reminds you) so you can offer your opinion and idea on why they show up. You don’t know how you’ll be helpful, but the professor insists.

“Alright, we have drinks and sandwiches,” you comment as you reach the top of the secluded hill Sonia chose for tonight, holding your basket of goodies in your hand. “And I’m assuming nerdy stuff, too?”

“Definitely got the nerdy stuff,” Sonia looks up to you from her spot on the grass and nods. There’s a telescope placed a few feet away, and you assume that’s what you’ll be looking through to get a clearer view of the meteors.

“You know, I heard lots of rumors about this thing. Apparently it’s more popular than I thought,” you take a seat next to her.

“What kind of rumors?”

You shrug, “lots of stuff. Some people they shine lots of different colors like a rainbow, some say they’re an omen…”

Sonia huffs, rolling her eyes and leaning back on her hands. “Bogus. People are so skeptical of things they don’t understand. I don’t get it,” she purses her lips. “And they definitely don’t shine rainbow colors… I think.”

You laugh and nudge her with your elbow. “I guess we’ll see for ourselves, yeah?” And then you lean toward your basket, bringing out the sandwiches. “Let’s eat though, I’m starving.”

Sonia giggles and happily takes the food you offer. The meteor shower isn’t supposed to happen for another hour, so personally, you’re not sure why she wanted to meet up so early, but it’s not like you mind. The two of you easily fill in the time talking about your lives and gossiping about the new gym challengers, giving your theories as to who you think will win. You think the challenger 097 has potential, but Sonia scoffs when you say they might be able to beat Victor and loudly gives you a list of reasons why Victor won’t be losing anytime soon. It makes you hum under your breath to tease her, saying ‘we’ll see…’ even though you know she’s probably right.

Before you know it, the food and drinks are gone and while Sonia talks animatedly about her next project, there’s a glistening shine in the sky behind her. She doesn’t notice as you tilt your head to look at it, watching it disappear in the sky. Another one shoots right after it, and you smile as you interrupt her- “look, a shooting star. Make a wish, Sonia.”

Sonia’s head whips around as she gasps, and she shoves you as star after star shoots in the sky. “I told you they’re not stars! Quick, get my journal!” She scrambles off the ground and toward the telescope, and you giggle as you do as she says. Flicking open her journal and clicking the pen that rests on top of it, you’re ready to take notes.


	20. Leon - Under the Table (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from anon: More nsfw with Leon plz :) Maybe something like, he's eyeing you all day, little discreet touches here and there, but you both can't Do the Dirty for whatever reason? He's obv trying to make you flustered in public, then you can't take it anymore and you race home to take care of business ;) thanks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for real this time! full-fledged smut! don't read this if u don't like smut and ur underaged, please. i will know if you're underaged and you comment on this saying that this Lemon was so hot. pro tip DONT CALL THEM LEMONS WE DONT CALL THEM THAT ANYMORE 
> 
> ALSO: Reader is GN! Genitalia isn't specified .

Leon’s going to be the death of you one day.

You had already come to terms with this, actually, fairly early on in your relationship. But you’d always thought that it would be because he got pulled into some ridiculous situation or he somehow managed to get lost at sea- because that just _sounds_ like Leon. It sounds like something he’d do- as much as you love him, you knew that one of these days he’d find some way to truly leave you speechless.

You didn’t think that it would be because of how he’s been eyeing you all night, occasionally squeezing your thigh under the table. But that’s how you’re going to die, apparently. Either you’re going to fall apart and die under his lustful gaze, or the tension building up inside of you will finally break- and you’re not sure if it’s appropriate to let that tension snap in the middle of dinner with the chairman.

Which isn’t fair, because it’s not appropriate for him to be groping and looking at you like this with the chairman literally _right there,_ either. But that just means, no matter how this ends, you and Leon both know. He drew first blood. This will be his fault, through and through.

You don’t even think that you look all that different. Both you and Leon had dressed up a bit fancier than you usually do for dinner tonight, it just made sense considering the fancy restaurant and important company. Leon himself looked like a snack you’d happily take a bite out of, but you weren’t _ogling_ him like it. You kept that to yourself! Like one does- it’s common decency. 

But Leon clearly wasn’t trying to act decent tonight, that much is made clear by his wandering hands under the table that you keep having to smack away. 

You almost jump when Leon’s hand gently places itself on your thigh the first time, but you manage to stifle your reaction as a well-timed choked laugh because Rose had just made a joke and positively lit up at your reaction.

You have no idea what he said, but you’re thankful. Though you’re sure Oleana isn’t nearly as gullible as the chairman- she’s been glaring daggers into both of you for quite a while. She didn’t like either of you to begin with, and it makes you sweat nervously when you think about what she’d do if she knew what Leon was doing under the table. 

The fear of her fury is enough to make you quickly place his hand off your lap, and Leon doesn’t react. It’s barely a few minutes later that his hand comes back, and that’s when you realized that tonight wasn’t going to be an easy one like you had thought. 

Arceus blessed you for a mere second. Once dinner was over, you were more than ready to leave, but Rose (and Leon) insisted on getting dessert. So right as you were dreading the fact you had to sit through even more of this pleasant, awful torture- Rose’s phone rang. 

Oleana was holding it because of course she held his phone. “This is important,” her clipped voice says, standing from the table. “You should take it somewhere private.” 

“Oh?” The chairman looks up at her, clearly displeased from being interrupted, and he looks over at you. 

You have to stop yourself from spitting when Leon’s hand wanders dangerously close to your crotch and he squeezes your leg- _hard_. 

“I hope you don’t mind this,” Rose shakes his head with a sigh, but Leon waves the hand that isn’t grabbing your thigh as he shakes his head. 

“No worries! I’m sure it’s important, like Oleana said,” Leon smiles, and Rose seems to relax a bit as he nods. 

“Right. Let’s make this quick, then.”

When Rose leaves the table with his phone in hand, Oleana follows right after him like the loyal guard dog she is. Once they’re successfully out of sight, you let out the breath you weren’t aware you were holding as you look over at Leon who’s grinning ear to ear.

“I’ll destroy you,” you clench your dinnerware in your fists, trying your best to ignore how he’s still caressing your thigh.

“I’d like that,” he smiles, and your face burns hotter.

“What is with you tonight?” You desperately look away from his eyes, trying to focus on literally anything else. “Do you have some sort of power play kink that I didn’t know about?”

“Nooo,” he singsongs, resting his elbow on the table as he continues to stare at you. “I just really like you. Is that so wrong?”

“It is when you grope me in front of the chairman,” you tightly press your lips together. Leon hums, his hand finally leaving your leg- instead, it finds home in your hair, twirling your strands between his fingers. He continues to look at you as if you’re the expensive gourmet dessert that’s literally sitting right in front of him on his plate. “If you keep doing this,” you warn him lowly, taking his hand and placing it on the table. “I’ll be forced to take action." 

"Action?” His eyebrows raise. You nod, and you don’t miss how he licks his lips. “What kind?" 

Not the kind he’ll like, that’s for damn sure.

The decision is made when Rose and Oleana come back, taking their respective seats, and immediately Leon’s hand goes back under the table. He doesn’t go for your leg this time- instead, his fingers wander just barely under your clothes. The touch of skin against skin is nearly electric. 

“Sorry about that,” Rose sighs as he straightens his blazer, but smiles again as he looks over to Leon. “The business never ends, as you know.”

Leon smiles back, all charm and wit as he nods. “Of course. The world doesn’t stop turning, even for a minute.” 

His fingers move from the bare skin of your back to just barely tracing around your hips, and that’s the last straw.

“Chairman Rose,” you suddenly blurt as you stand from your seat. Leon’s eyes immediately widen as he looks up at you, his hand falling to his lap. “I am so sorry, but while you were gone, I got an awful message from my mother. Apparently she really needs my help, I’m so sorry about this,” you collect your things next to your seat hurriedly.

Rose’s face falls, “oh, that’s no good. I hope she’s well.”

You purposefully ignore Leon’s stare as you smile at the chairman. “Thank you, Chairman Rose. I’m sure it’s nothing, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. But I definitely don’t want to ruin dinner, and Leon and I already agreed that I’ll just meet him at home whenever I can get back,” you slide a hand on Leon’s back, and discreetly you grab some of his hair and _tug_.

“R-right! Right,” Leon squeaks, then clears his throat with a laugh. “I’ll see you at… home.”

“Mhmm. See you at home,” because it’s appropriate, you lean down to kiss him on the cheek, but you tug his hair once more as you whisper into his ear-

“Naked and prepped, that is,”

You’ve never been so satisfied by Leon’s blush before. You lean away from him with a sweet, innocent smile, and then you ignore Oleana’s glare as you make your leave from the restaurant. _Ok, you just did that_ , you think with a skip in your step as you head home. _You just did that._

What can you say? You warned him. 

—

Despite the fact that you felt it was a little too forgiving and rewarding for Leon’s embarrassing behavior, you follow through with your promise. You know that the minute you left Oleana and Rose alone with Leon, they bombarded him with work details and questions that they held back while you were around for the sake of privacy. And you also know that Leon barely had half a mind to pay attention to it- if your guess was correct, he was probably furiously distracted and clenching the tablecloth with white knuckles by now.

You had plenty of time to prepare for him coming home.

Preparation is important, after all. You have a feeling that as much as you would like to, you wouldn’t be dominating the bedroom tonight. So you do the necessary steps you need in order to make sure you’re ready for the activities in store, making sure not to get too lost in the pleasure as you wait in your bed for Leon to come home. You wouldn’t want to get too ahead of yourself and end everything before it could even start, after all.

But that means your patience is wearing thin, just as much as Leon’s is, most likely. So when you hear the front door to your house practically slam open and closed, your lips slip into a smile as you sigh in relief. The relief only grows when Leon storms into your room, the door already open. His eyes are wide and his pupils dilate at the sight of you- something in your belly jumps when he almost snarls at you.

“You,” he starts, pointing at you as he starts to laugh, deep and low. “You-“

“Followed through with my warning,” You finish for him, and he raises an eyebrow at your gall to interrupt him. You merely shrug with a cocky grin. “Didn’t I?”

He purses his lips as his eyes rake up and down your body, a laugh leaving him again, more strained than before. “I can’t argue with that,” He clicks his tongue- and without further dilly-dallying, his hands move to his shirt- which is already halfway unbuttoned- and he makes quick work on throwing the article behind him as he dives for the bed.

You jump as the weight makes you bounce on the bed. Leon’s arms wrap around you as you laugh, his hair already falling on your face as he giggles and straddles you. “Leon!” You spit out his strands.

“Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t sound sorry. You shove your wrist in his face so he can take the hair tie off of it, making quick work of gathering his hair into a loose ponytail. “Ok can we start now,” he barely asks, already leaning in to kiss you, and you laugh some more against his mouth.

“You tell me,” you mumble, and those are the last words that are spoken as he finally kisses you proper. The entire atmosphere is kind of skewed because both of you are equally turned on and stupidly horny, but you also can’t stop from snorting when Leon grabs your thighs again. It’s equally silly as it is hot, but that’s why you love Leon.

“What is it?” The Champion kisses at your jaw and neck, sucking marks and leaving you breathless. You smile.

“You just seem to have a sudden infatuation with my legs. One would think you’ve already groped them enough,”

“It’s not _groping_ ,” Leon argues, moving up to sit on his heels as he straddles you. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, making you squeak- but he merely kisses your knee. “I’m just showing them extra love.”

You deadpan. “I’m pretty sure it’s still groping.”

“You’re just really sexy! It’s not my fault!”

You loudly laugh at his childish tone, your nose scrunching up as your eyes close shut. “Okay, okay,” moving your hands forward, you grab at his belt and start to get to work removing his pants. “I can see that.” Your fingers brush over his erection- and despite how many times you’ve both done this and that your touch is light and brief, Leon still shivers.

“I can’t believe you’d tug on my hair like that and then leave me alone with the two most unsexy people in the universe,” Leon sighs, his hands wandering around your bare body as you remove his belt and unzip his pants. “And they talked numbers and statistics the entire time. It was dreadful.”

“I can’t believe you were ready to put your hand down my underwear while we were sitting right across from them,” you raise an eyebrow at him- and the bastard at least has the audacity to flush in embarrassment. As he should.

“It was fun, though,” he barely mumbles. “Got you riled up, didn’t it?”

You start to move his opened pants down his hips, and Leon shuffles on top of you as he works to get his legs out of them. He nearly topples over as he loses his balance, but you quickly place your hands around him to keep him on top of you with a chuckle. “Of course. But don’t ever do that again. Oleana would publicly execute us if she ever figured you out.”

At that, Leon blushes a bit harder, and it makes you widen your eyes. “Um.”

“Leon!” You already move to smack his arms and chest and he tries desperately to fight off your hands.

“It’s okay! I swear! She just- stop it!” Leon grabs both of your wrists, holding them against his chest as he giggles. You glare at him, and he stops with a swallow. “She just- uh- pulled me aside as we were leaving and said that the Champion should learn some self restraint. And then I think she implied she was going to beat me into next Wednesday if she ever had to see me hard ever again.”

“Oh Arceus,” you throw your head back on the pillows behind your head. “Dude, you are so lucky.” At least it sounded like she was only mad at Leon and not you, which you’re thankful for. You don’t know if you could ever survive the brunt force of her words without coming out different than how you came in.

“I know, I know- _anyways_ -“ Leon moves your hands down to his boxers and you roll your eyes. Quite frankly, you’ve had enough of him- and you surprise him as you buck up your hips.

It’s not very graceful because you’re moving a two-hundred pound man of muscle, but you manage to twirl yourself on top of him when his back hits the mattress. “I’m not sure I’m one-hundred percent on board with rewarding you like that.” That’s what you say, anyway, but he’s already looking comfortable and satisfied with his position as he places his hands on your hips.

“Come on, kiss me,” he puckers his lips at you, “I know you want to.”

“How do you know that?”

Leon snorts and his hand easily slides from your hip down to the area between your legs, wet and twitching sensitively as he cups you. “Wild guess,” he says, and you hate how cocky he sounds.

“Fine, _fine_. Let’s have raunchy sex.” You wiggle under his hand and Leon grins.

“Yes!”

You could roll your eyes at how childish he is- and you do- but with the blunt wave of permission you gave him, Leon’s hands are already moving around you in ways that have you leaning over him, breathing heavily as you steady your hands on either side of him to stay upright.

“ _Lee_ ,” a moan slips out as his fingers delve between your legs, running teasingly around your entrance before he finally puts a finger in. “For someone who was impatient, you’re not moving as fast as I thought you would,” you groan. Just one finger is barely enough, but it doesn’t feel like he plans on changing that as he continues thrusting the single digit as he lifts up his head and peppers kisses against your neck again.

“Gotta make sure you’re ready,” he hums against your skin.

“I spent the past half hour getting ready, Lee,” you huff. Leon presses another finger inside you- just one- and his other hand lifts to cup your face so he can kiss your lips.

“And you call me impatient,” he laughs. You don’t entertain him with a response besides grinding down on his fingers and kissing him again, hot and wet. As you move against him, you realize he’s still in his boxers, which just won’t do. Your fingers curl around the band and tug them down, and Leon moans into your mouth as you run your palm against him. His fingers leave you and so does his mouth, his heavy breaths feeling warm against your cheek. “Okay, yeah, raunchy sex it is,” Before you can argue, you’re suddenly being flipped around onto your back.

You smile warmly up at him as he quickly throws his boxers off, flicking them across the room with his hand. “Can you grab the lube on the stand?” You gesture up to it and Leon nods, moving on top of you and reaching to grab the container. He moves to put a dollop on his hand, but you quickly stop him and do it instead. His breath catches when you reach down, wrapping a hand around his length as you spread the lube around him evenly.

“You’re a tease,” he says and you could argue that he’s a hypocrite since he barely fingered you with two digits, but you don’t feel like talking anymore. Instead, you wrap a hand around his back, bringing him close as you continue to stroke him slowly. Then, just as slow, you guide him toward your entrance.

Leon hums from deep in his throat, his hand cupping your jaw as he moves inside you, and just like he always does, he kisses you. “Love you,” he murmurs against your lips, and it makes you smile.

Finally, the atmosphere evens out as Leon thrusts deep in you, making your head roll back onto the pillows- it’s nothing but love, love, _love_.

The anticipation from the evening and tension is finally getting resolved, quickly taking over as Leon’s hips don’t take long at all until they slam against yours. Despite how in love you are, you’re both needy and desperate- there was no way that tonight was going to be slow.

“Lee, _Leon_ ,” his name leaves you like a mantra as you moan, holding him tightly as your legs wrap and lock around him. Your hands move into his violet strands of hair as you tug and pull. Leon’s face is buried in your shoulder, sucking hickeys into your skin, and he groans loud as you tug hard enough to pull his head back.

“Lord,” he laughs under his breath, a hand holding your hip and the other one presses into the mattress next to your head, keeping him upright as he thrusts harder. You tug his hair out of his ponytail, throwing the hair tie somewhere as the strands pool across his shoulders and back. Above you like this, covered in sweat and his golden eyes shining, he looks almost ethereal. He pulls you into another kiss, his tongue wet as it enters your mouth and licks your teeth. You bite his lip in return.

“Come on, Lee,” You whisper, grinding your hips against his thrusts. “Come on,”

His sweaty forehead presses against yours. Finally, the hand on your hip moves between your legs, and his fingers move across the area that makes you quake, your body shivering at the pleasure. “I’ve wanted to see it all night,” He says desperately, eyes burning as he watches your expression shift. “ _All night._ Wanted to see you fall apart. Please, baby,” he moves his hand faster between your legs, “let me see it,”

“I- Lee,” you feel your breaths quicken, “Oh, _oh_ ,”

Leon kisses your jaw, nibbles on your ear, “Please,” he whispers, and the fact that he’s begging for you to cum is what makes you come undone. Your hands scratch on his back, hips desperately moving in tandem with his as you lose yourself to the feeling- and you try not to hide away when Leon lifts himself up so he can watch your every movement while you moan, moan, _moan_.

Blearily through your orgasm, your hand moves back to his violet hair and you pull exactly how he likes it. “Come on, Lee,” you urge him again- and he can hardly say no to such an enticing request. You squeeze him, holding him tightly between your legs, and kiss him. The feeling of him thrusting in you is beginning to burn, just a bit- the stimulation making you moan still. His hips snap- once, twice- a few more than that, grinding into you as far as he can go before you can finally feel him empty out inside you. All the while, he seems adamant about complimenting you between his deep, low moans. He’s always been like that- even as he cums, he’s spouting some nonsense about how beautiful and tight you are, and it never fails to make you blush even deeper than you already are.

The two of you catch your breath, silence filling the room beside your breathing. Your arms fall down across your face, and Leon grabs one of your hands, rubbing his thumb across your palm. You deeply sigh, eyes shifting into focus on his face and toothy smile.

And then he pulls out, and you grimace with a whine. Going raw was sexy at the moment, but you don’t know why you do it. Feeling his cum drip out of you is always gross.

Leon laughs- barely making it up to you as he leans down and peppers more lighthearted kisses across your face. “Sorry,” he hums, and you lazily knock his face away with your free hand.

“Sure you are,” you sit up slowly. “If you’re really sorry, help clean me up.” You watch as his cum dribbles onto the sheets and you groan, tightly pressing your legs together. “These are new! Leon, hurry!”

“Okay, okay!”

You don’t bother to hide your laugh as you watch him run butt naked to your bathroom so he can get a towel. Sure, Leon was kind of dense at times, and the fact that he did something so risky tonight was kind of amazingly stupid, but… You love him a ridiculous amount. So you can’t really find it in you to hold it against him- at least tonight ended pleasantly instead of ending in a disaster like you thought it would.

And when Oleana calls early the next morning, having even more sharp words to share with Leon (most likely because she had time to process the fact he was groping you in front of the Chairman, of all people, and once that set in she could barely hold herself back), you just give him a knowing look as you pat his scratched up back. He did this to himself, after all.


	21. Raihan - Sandy Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with..”

Life was pretty tame for you most of the time. 

Galar is pretty chock full of opportunities, what with the Gym Challenge and everything. You had participated once, back when you were a kid but found out pretty quick that battling wasn’t really your bag. You liked making bonds with Pokemon though, so eventually, you diverged from battles and instead took on studying the Wild Area. You still had plenty of adventures this way and you didn’t have to give up loving on your Pokemon.

You remember what the challenge was like, though. It was pretty stressful- so you’re not surprised when a good day on the field for you could be a bad day in the gym for your boyfriend, Raihan. Your occupations were somewhat similar, but drastically different, as well. 

After you had come home and taken a long, cleansing shower after running through a sandstorm earlier today, you were quick to fall back into your bed with your phone so you can relax. Raihan hadn’t come home at that point, and you were looking forward to when he did because you could use some cuddles and kisses. 

Raihan apparently felt exactly the same, because you didn’t even get your greeting out fully when he walked in your room before he was already on top of you, deadweight. 

“Rai,” you wheeze, “miss me much?” 

He hums, long and whiney sounding as he continues to lay on you, not helping as you rearrange his limbs so he isn’t suffocating you. 

“Rough day?” Sand falls out of his hair and rubs against his skin as you run your hands through it, which gives you at least one clue as to how his day went. He didn’t even shower before coming home. 

You dread the upcoming laundry load, but try to push down that tiring thought for now. 

“Could say that,” Raihan wiggles from on top of you. “I just want to lay like this, if t’s okay with you.” 

“Well, it would be if you worked with me a little, here,” 

“Right.” He giggles, finally getting off you and you breathe out a ‘thank you’ as he chucks off his jacket (you see the sand fly along with it, and you almost want to whine) and rearranges himself beside you on the bed. Raihan’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you in close against him while you pull the covers over you both. “You’re the best,” he sings. 

You smile and huff, snuggling in close to him and wrapping your own arms around him. “For now,” you rest your head on his chest, “I’ll be a lot different once we’re done and I get to chew you out for bringing a sandstorm in the house.” He tenses from beneath you, and when you look up at him, he’s smiling a toothy, guilty smile. And then he quickly puts your head back against his chest.

“Shh, go to sleep,” 

“Raihan-”

“Shhsssshh,”

You let it go. For now.


	22. Raihan - The Ocean (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from tumblr  
> Prompt(s): “What? does that feel good?” / “No, you can’t get up! You’re my prisoner for today.” (I kinda changed this last one but the principle is the same lol)

Deep inside you, there’s a rumbling feeling, full of hot pressure and pleasure. It makes you shiver, your heart stumbling along with intense beats in your chest. You inhale sharply- exhale _deeply_ , slowly, to ground yourself. 

Another shiver. You twitch, sigh, _moan_ at another wave of vibration. You move onto your arms to sit up, like rising up from underwater as you take another breath in, cold air seeping in your throat before you’re shoved down again, back underwater, under that _pressure_ and _pleasure._

“Where do you think you’re going?” Under the water, a familiar face lies there, shark-tooth grin and cerulean eyes shining. His pupils dilate and expand, fixating on you with such intensity that it makes something pull and snap in your belly.

If Raihan is the ocean, then you are just a traveler lost at sea, completely at the mercy of his waves. 

“Please,” you moan. 

“What?” He asks, and the feeling inside you bumps up a few notches. 

Because of that remote in his hand. 

“Does that feel good?” A dark eyebrow raises as he looks at you, wholeheartedly entertained as if you’re putting on a show as you wiggle and writhe because of the toy inside you. The hand splayed out on your chest moves down, across the naked skin of your stomach and hip, and then it travels up again, tickling your collarbones and neck. Softly, Raihan cups your jaw, tilts your face up as he leans in close enough so his breath hits your cheek. 

“Answer me,” he smiles, and you feel how it makes your heart beat a bit faster. As he swoops in and steals your attention, you don’t even notice the other hand drifting between your legs until it’s already there, cupping you and making your eyes squeeze shut. 

The darkness doesn’t last for long as his fingers tighten around your jaw. “Eyes on me,” Raihan whispers. Immediately your eyes snap open, boring into his and watching his form grow blurry as your focus shifts and your eyes water. 

“ _Yes,_ ” you swallow the lump in your throat, a moan escaping when you do. 

“Good,” his face nuzzles into your neck, kisses scattered lightly across your skin as he continues his ministrations. He knows exactly what to do, exactly the amount of pressure you need to send you over the edge- and he ignores it purposefully, taking delight in your whines and shivers. You moan his name and he smiles against your neck before he bites, teeth digging in and making you cry out. 

“Because you’re not going anywhere.” 


	23. Leon - Boyfriend Ability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> small drabble with Male!Reader

He’s been poking and prodding your side for- mm- probably five minutes now. It’s a new record.

“Leon,” you finally lift your head from your book, blinking slowly as you look over to your boyfriend with a smile. “I won’t know what you want unless you use your _words_.”

He counteracts that with a huff and a raised brow- as if you just challenged him. But he begrudgingly shoves his childness to the side, instead sitting up from where he was sprawled out across your legs and leaning against your side. His long, tangled violet locks scatter across his face and shoulders and he eyes you with big, golden irises. “So,” Leon starts and you snort. “I have an issue.”

“What’s your issue?”

“My hair.”

You hum, exhaling deeply. “What about it?”

“I need my boyfriend to play with it,” and finally, he whines, leaning more weight against you as he shoves himself in front of your book. Once again he falls ungracefully in your lap, looking up at you with a beaming grin. “Please?”

You break your facade with a laugh, setting your book down beside you on the couch so both your hands are free to run through his tangles. “Can’t do this yourself?” You ask, already coming across a thick knot.

“It’s different,”

“Yeah?” You focus on untangling his knots first before you do what he really wants- rubbing his scalp, digging your nails in just a bit as you play with his hair. “Is it my special boyfriend ability?”

“So you know!” Leon exclaims and you laugh again. As you work, Leon shuffles to get more comfortable in his place. Eventually he ends up with his arms wrapped around your leg, cheek pressed against your thigh with your other leg hooked over him across his back. It’s a funny sight, but Leon assures you that there’s no place that he’d rather be.

As he begins to pleasantly hum before picking up the book you discarded, reading the pages aloud for you as you busy your fingers in his violet strands- you feel the same. No place is better than right here.


	24. Leon - Chilly Down (Good Times, Bad Food)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ask From Tumblr: Its,,,,, so basic but Maybe Leon and Reader are training out near Circhester and get caught in a snowstorm? They find an old cabin amongst the trees and tHeReS OnLy OnE BED and they have to keep warm,,,, (Love your writing btw)

You feel like you should have expected something like this to happen. Despite what a great guy Leon is and how fun it is to hang out with him, he was sort of a magnet for trouble. He had an ability to draw in unfortunate events wherever he went it seemed. 

So you’re not _completely_ surprised when you and Leon are hit with an unexpected snowstorm while training together outside of Circhester. Are you a bit miffed about it? Yes. But surprised? No, not really. 

“Training with the Champion is great and all,” you yell over the storm, one arm in front of your face to uselessly protect you from the snow, and your other hand is holding tightly onto Leon’s. Grabbing hold of him was almost more important than making it out of the storm- if you lost sight of Leon during this, you might never see him ever again. He’d find some way to end up on an undiscovered continent, you just know it. “But I think I’ll pass on your invitations after this!” You finally finish, continuing to trudge through the snow with him. 

“You know, usually I’d argue, but I think that’s fair,” Leon laughs, and then immediately shuts his mouth as a rush of cold air hits him and tries to travel down his throat. He hacks a few times- a few ice crystals probably hit his uvula or something- and then you feel a harsh tug on your hand. “Look!” 

Leon points toward a dim but very much _real_ yellow glow in the distance. Immediately, the two of you head for it- desperate for any shelter you could be given. Part of you was doubtful, wondering if it was just some luminescent Pokémon or a random streetlight. Though even a streetlight would be better than nothing- that would mean you were back on the route’s path and could find your way back to Circhester if you were lucky. 

But it _wasn’t_ a random streetlight. Thank whatever Gods that may exist- the light was coming from a big, sturdy wooden cabin, a sign being viciously blown by the wind read that it was even a _hotel_. What are the odds? 

“This is literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Leon yells as you both make a run for the cabin. 

“I believe it!” 

You almost fall with the amount of force that you and Leon enter the cabin with- both frantic to get out of the biting cold. You actually _do_ fall, tumbling into a roll on the ground and snow scattering everywhere as Leon fumbles for the door and slams it shut before you bring too much of the storm inside. 

Heavily breathing, you don’t even notice the lady behind the counter before she coughs. 

Leon looks up with a beaming grin, laughing as he huffs and puffs, leaning against the door. “Hell of a storm, innit?” 

Not the smartest thing to say, but the lady gives out an amused snort anyway. 

“I’m assuming the two of you will be purchasing a room?” She tilts her head with a gleam in her eye. Something tells you that business isn’t going so well if she’s working in a hotel in the middle of nowhere and she’s still charging when you’re both obviously stranded- but hey, that’s life. You look up to Leon as you stay on the floor, hands on your chest as you continue to try and catch your breath. 

“Let me see,” you huff and wheeze, “those Champion benefits,” another huff, “big guy.” 

It’s not that funny but Leon laughs so hard that he starts to slide down the door, knees buckling beneath him, and you think that’s really funny so you start laughing too, rolling on the floor. The lady watches all the while, and if you notice a flying Rotom recording you while you and Leon lose your minds over nothing, you don’t say anything about it. 

Once Leon manages to shuffle over and pay the woman at the desk after your post-adrenaline delirium, she gladly shows you over to your room. You’re suddenly feeling exhausted after trudging through a snowstorm, so you don’t pay much attention to what she says as she leads you there- but it’s not like you need to. Leon does most of the talking as he keeps you steady with an arm around your shoulder. 

You don’t notice the look the woman gives you, nor do you notice the look Leon gives back. All you feel is the comforting rub of his hand on your arm, and it’s nice. 

“Enjoy your stay, you two,” is the only thing you pick up from her before the door is shut and you’re left alone in your newly-purchased hotel room.

There’s an important detail here, and that detail is the fact that there’s only one bed, and you’ve never shared a bed with Leon before. Sure, you’re friends, but you’ve never been the _cuddling-type_ of friends. This detail is completely missed by both of you as luck would have it because as soon as you and Leon manage to remove your clothes, you’re out like a pair of lights the second your backs hit the mattress. 

No, the problem and important detail doesn’t really announce itself in your mind until morning comes. Well- afternoon, actually, if you managed to look at a clock. 

When you awake- at first, it’s not strange. It’s not strange until you recognize the hand around your waist, hair in your face, and legs entwined with yours- which is definitely _not_ something that’s a usual occurrence for you. Recognizing all of these details, your eyes snap open, and you begin to take in the situation as it is. 

Leon and you both stripped down to your underwear, definitely cuddling, and _definitely_ in the only bed available in the room as far as you can see. And from what you can tell with how the walls shake and the windows vibrate, the storm is still going strong. 

Right. 

“Leon,” your voice is hoarse from sleep as you smack your lips, your hand lifting up to shake Leon’s arm that’s wrapped tightly around your waist. “Leon, you daft idiot, wake up,” 

“Mmmgh,”

“I’ll… I’ll steal all your Pokemon, and run off to another country. Wake up, Leon.” The threat is creative, but lacking any real malice behind it as you continue to shake Leon’s body. A few more rough shakes and he finally blinks his eyes open. 

“Where… where am I?” He mumbles almost incoherently as he blinks a few more times, lifting himself up on his elbows as he takes in his surroundings. A bit of drool falls from the corner of his mouth. 

It’s kind of cute, but also kind of gross, and Leon is still kind of on top of you in nothing but his underwear. You begin to wonder if he’s ever going to notice- but finally, his expression seems to come to life as his mind wakes up and he looks up and down your body again. 

“...Right. Yeah, my bad.” Grunting, Leon finally rolls off you and to the other side of the bed. You want to laugh at the pinkness of his ears and cheeks if you weren’t vividly aware you probably looked exactly the same, so you bite your tongue for now. Apparently, the both of you have agreed to ignore your partial nudity for now as Leon holds his head in his hands, keeping his gaze off you as he asks, “why on Galar am I so _tired?_ ” 

“Maybe we were supposed to die,” you snicker, sitting up yourself and bringing up the covers as you do, trying to stay somewhat-modest. “And now our brains are realizing we’re actually alive and it doesn’t know what to do.” 

Despite himself, Leon giggles. “Yeah, maybe.” 

The window shakes from more pressure of the storm outside. It gets your attention for sure, and you realize that you should probably check your phone to see when this storm would even end. Very, very slowly, you shuffle out of bed, analyzing the floor and looking at how scattered your clothes are. It takes your tired mind a minute to find your bag, but when you do, it’s not good news. 

Of course there’s no service. 

“ _Ugh_ ,” you groan again. “This sucks.” 

“Put on some clothes,” Leon says from the bed and you roll your eyes.

“They’re drenched, mate, and so are yours,”

Leon’s head snaps up from his hands at that. “Really?” You’ve got no reason to lie about that but he scatters toward his clothes anyway, feeling the damp and dirty texture of them with his own hands, as if that would change their outcome. You’re definitely not checking out his butt as he bends over to pick them up, because that would be silly and childish. 

Very nice view, though. 

Leon sighs. “Of course. Don’t suppose this hotel has a store of any sort?” 

“Good one,” you laugh. “Probably not, but I’ll check the bathroom for robes-“

“Oh, let me do it,”

“Why?”

“I’ve really got to pee, mate,” 

“Right on, then,” you point him toward the direction of the bathroom and Leon immediately makes himself sparse. You can only laugh as you watch him go, and while you wait, you gather all of your wet clothes and start to hang them all around the room so they might dry while you wait out the storm. 

“Good news,” Leon comes out of the bathroom and you look over your shoulder, seeing him hold up two white, fluffy robes. He tosses one your way and you catch it easily, wrapping yourself up quickly and Leon follows suit. “So, roomie,” Leon raises a brow at you, hands on his hips, “what do we do now?”

You wave your phone that’s in your hand. “We got no service, so we should probably check in with that lady who was at the desk if she knows anything about the weather reports.” Your eyes move to look at the bed. “And maybe you should talk her into changing us to a room with two beds.” For both of your sakes. 

“Right,” Leon nods. “Let’s go, then.”

More bad news, though. The lady didn’t know anything about the weather other than the fact that these storms usually lasted a day or two, so, in her own words, ‘if you’re lucky, you won’t be here much longer, but I can’t assure that. Also, you’re charged per night, per room.’ 

And all the rooms in this shotty little hotel only had one bed, so the idea of getting privacy at night was a lost cause. You weren’t the biggest fan of wasting your money or Leon’s on two rooms, anyway, especially since the owner seemed to be somewhat rude. So that’s nice. 

_‘At least she had food’_ , Leon had told you positively, and you suppose he was right. She had a rather weak list of a menu, but ‘ _at least there was a menu’_ so you wouldn’t have to eat whatever berries you had in your bag. The two of you seemed to dance around the fact that you were going to most likely be sleeping partly nude again tonight, except this time you’ll both be a lot more awake and conscious of it. You distracted yourself with the mediocre food that tasted mildly burnt or undercooked, no in-between, and playing with what Pokemon could fit in your small hotel room instead until both of your eyes were drooping and you couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer. 

“So.” You stand on one side of the bed, Leon on the other. Both of you stare at each other with your hands on your hips. 

“So,” Leon nods. 

“Should we… make rules?” Looking down at the bed and up at Leon, you know that technically you guys could try to stay on your side of the bed and probably not touch each other all night. 

But you were keenly aware that this man is a _cuddler_ and you had a subconscious habit to scoot over to the warmest thing while you slept, so it seemed like physical interaction was going to happen one way or the other.

“I think that’s a bit pretentious,” he scratches his chin and shrugs. His nonchalance is downplayed by the heat on his cheeks and the sweat on his temple. “It’s fine if we… _Cuddle_. Right?” 

You suppose so. “I guess,” you purse your lips. “Typically friends cuddle with clothes on, though. And these robes are too awkward to sleep in.” 

“I mean, we did it before.” 

That’s true, but again, both of you were a bit delirious. But you can’t really argue with that, and you’re getting tired of dancing, so you nod and sigh. With a burst of courage, you square your shoulders, narrowing your eyes. Leon looks at you strangely before he squawks, his hands flying to cover his face when you remove your robe, the material falling and pooling around your feet. 

“Some warning!” He chokes and coughs. You laugh through your embarrassment, quickly getting on the bed and under the covers. 

“Come on. We could be sitting here all night. Lose the robe,” you cheer him on and Leon glares at you through the spaces of his fingers. “Lose the robe! Lose the robe!” 

“ _Stop!_ ” He laughs and you giggle along, but it slowly ebbs and abruptly comes to a halt when Leon does, in fact, lose the robe. It’s too much to ask for him to not notice how you stare, so of course he does- humming proudly as he snuggles under the covers. “Speechless?” Leon smiles. 

“Don’t push it, I saw you ogling me the first time,” 

He coughs when you smirk. 

“Fine. Come here and cuddle me if you’re so smart.”

“Fine, I will!”

“Do it.”

“I’m gonna.”

The two of you lay under the covers, Leon’s arms open and beckoning, and you- frozen, not moving an inch. It’s not until he gives you a cocky look and starts to wiggle forward that you finally bite your lip and shove down your ego, rolling over to his side. It should be awkward, and it is, but only because the two of you somehow manage to fit together perfectly and that’s a bit odd. Your head resting against his collarbone, his arms wrapped snugly around your body, your legs entwined in a comfortable and fitting manner. It all happens almost instantaneously as if you’d both done this for years, as if it was a habit.

“Not that bad, right?” Leon murmurs in your ear and hums when your fingers trail little patterns across the skin of his waist and back. You mostly just did it to ease your nerves, not realizing how intimate the action was, but you figure it’s fine if Leon seems to like it. His hands explore your hair and the nape of your neck, the feeling making you curl further against him with a sigh. 

“Not bad,” you whisper. “Still odd.”

He hums but doesn’t prod the conversation along any further.

Several odd minutes pass, your breathing slowing as your body relaxes against Leon’s. Right as you find yourself on that warm, lulling cusp of falling asleep, there’s a brushing feeling against the top of your head. Leon’s body shuffles and lowers on the mattress and you’re about to whine a complaint about him moving around so much- but you’re silenced by the feeling of lips against your forehead. 

The hand that was previously teasing the skin of your neck trailed up and lightly grazed your cheek as Leon’s lips moved across your forehead to your brow. The actions are relaxing, yes, but your body tenses regardless because _friends don’t do this._

“Leon,” your whisper is like a shout compared to the dark silence in the room. Leon freezes up instantly at the sound of it and when you open your eyes, his head is angled in a way with his lips still pressed against your temple so you can’t see his expression. “...What are you doing?” You lick your lips nervously.

“...I thought you were sleeping.” Is all he has to say. You can’t say anything in reply to that because it’s fairly obvious to the both of you that _no_ , you weren’t sleeping. “Um.” The air that leaves his mouth is hot against your skin.

From where your head rests, snug against his chest, you can almost _feel_ the thundering pace of his heart more than you hear it. You idly wonder if it’s possible for hearts to beat in sync with one another. 

“Leon,” you say again when he doesn’t offer any explanation. He sucks in a shaky breath, his arm propping up from under him as he finally comes into your field of view; his eyes downcast and refusing to meet yours as he scoots away from you and lays his head back on his pillow. His hand lowers from your cheek down to your waist, touching your skin and then jolting back and insecurely moving against his chest, instead. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, “that was a bit creepy.” 

You remember the feeling of his heartbeat, and you don’t think that’s creepy at all. 

You reach your hand forward, tenderly cupping Leon’s jaw as he had done to you. Finally, he looks at you- his golden irises shining like glowflies in the darkness. The moment held between you now is a stark contrast to the harsh snowstorm outside- if you strain your ear, you’d be able to hear the whistling of the wind and the creaking of the trees. 

For now, all you can hear is your heart in your ears and the voice in your head saying _kiss him, kiss him, kiss him._

You’re aware that friends don’t do this. They don’t look at each other like this and they don’t press their lips against each other so softly- meekly. _Lovingly_. Maybe if you’re _experimenting_ , maybe if you’re a _different_ type of friend. But you and Leon aren’t like that, you’ve never been like that. 

So if things are different now, that’s something that’s a treasured secret between you, him, and the snow. 


	25. Piers - Hellebore Petals (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> commission from @danni-dollarsign on tumblr!! 
> 
> Hanahaki Disease/Nsfw. Gender not specified!

The flower Hellebore had interesting folklore behind it. There was a history between the black and white flower- it was said that a girl’s tears once bloomed into a white Hellebore, while the black Hellebore was known for poisoning kings and lords. Despite that, the black flower had a definition of serenity and peace. It was a bit contradictory, but that was what the pretty flower dictionary had told you. 

In your case, the black Hellebore was a definition of anxiety. The flower brought you no such thing as serenity and peace, not by a landslide. 

Whenever the black petals fell from your lips in a mix of spit and vomit, it served as a charming reminder that you were alone.

Music blares and vibrates, sending shocks through your body as you kneel over the public toilet. You groan and wipe the bile off your chin, slowly standing from the floor as you flush your sins away. Even from here, you can hear the guitar riff, your heart beating along with that sound. It beckons you to come back, to join the crowd, to keep your eyes on _him_ as his voice cuts through and the rough baritone makes the people go wild. 

Typically, you enjoy Piers’ concerts, but with the new vines of flowers and greed growing inside you, it’s less satisfying than it usually is and feels more like a tug on your chest. Like a swarm of water intruding your blood and lungs, suffocating you. 

You try not to let the taste on your tongue or swirl in your belly ruin the atmosphere. You dance, you bump into others, you watch Piers as he sings ( _you wait for it to be over_ ) as you distract yourself from thinking about black petals dyed in blood floating in toilet water. 

There’s a pounding pressure in your head that you also try to ignore, pulsing uncomfortably and throbbing. It’s not until the show is over and you head backstage like you always do that you realize why. Coincidentally, it’s Piers who points it out. 

His eyes wide as he looked at you, a twitch in his brow. Skipping the casualties, the ‘ _hey, great show_ ’ you always give him, he gets right to the point with a frown. “Mate,” Piers says, “your nose is bleeding.” 

“What?”

Your hand shoots up to your nose, and sure enough, there’s a warm tickle above your lip. The blood moves slow and thick, and you try not to touch it so it doesn’t smear on your skin. But Piers is still looking, and you’re reminded of more blood- coughed up from your lungs, from your heart- and the urge to vomit floods through you like a wave. 

You laugh. 

“That’s- probably not good, is it?” You tilt your head up to keep the blood from trailing past your lip and chin, “sorry, Piers- I’ll go wash this up! Sorry.” 

Piers can only watch with a concerned look as you rush away, bumping into several people and barely apologizing as you run to the washroom. 

You don’t come back. 

———

Just who decided that Hanahaki was a good idea, anyway? You understood the fact that maybe it was supposed to be poetic- some pathetic mockery of a romance that made you spit up flower petals in remorse of your deeper feelings that you can’t confess. But it didn’t _feel_ poetic, it didn’t feel nice. It just felt like a raw throat and lungs short of breath, like tears in your pillow and deep rooted insomnia at night.

It was all your fault, too. It was your fault because you fell in love, and it’s your fault because you don’t have the guts to tell Piers how you feel. If you confess, all of this would supposedly go away. 

If he felt the same, that is. 

How cruel. You can’t do that to him. 

When you cough up more petals on your kitchen floor, you think about the black Hellebores and how it was used to poison kings. Maybe it’s poisoning you, too. 

Maybe you’ll let it. 

——

Piers isn’t stupid. 

As wonderful as Marnie is now, you were around when she was still a little brat, so you knew more than anyone else that Piers could spot conflict from a mile away. He had a sixth sense for trouble it seemed, and you were drowning in it. You could only skitter away and hide the truth for so long before he cornered you, giving you that _look_. 

Tired and worried, but utterly finished with you. 

‘ _Cough it up_ ’, his eyes said- and really, it was funny how literal that request actually was. 

“Is there any way I can convince you that I’m fine?” You wince a smile. You doubt it, of course- for Piers to come to your home and walk in like he owned the place wasn’t something he did often. You had been sitting sick on your couch and all you could do was just sit and watch him make himself comfortable as he sat across from you, crossing his arms and legs as he looked at you expectantly. 

“Nah,” he says simply. That’s fair.

Very slowly, you sit up on your couch and lean against the armrest, nausea swirling in your stomach like it had been nonstop the past few days. It must be another symptom, a sign that you’re only getting worse. You’ve been trying to build up the courage to finally spit it out to Piers, but the pain of leaving your bed was too much. 

At least you made it to the couch. And now, Piers has made it to you, so it’s now or never. Really. You either do this, or you succumb to your illness. 

“I’m… sick,” you start. Piers stares at you. Right, that much was obvious. “Alright. Okay- this is going to feel a bit out of nowhere, and it’s a bit awkward, but-” you sigh and prop yourself up on your armrest some more, taking a deep breath to ease the swirl in your stomach. Piers continues to watch, patiently waiting, his eyes boring holes into your figure. You have to look away in order to actually say it. 

Nervously, you kick your feet in the air. “Have you ever heard of that flower disease?” 

What you actually wanted to say was- surprise, I’m in love with you! But apparently, you still don’t have the courage to be so blunt. 

Piers tilts his head, squints his eyes. “The weird one that gets you coughin’ up petals and such? Heard of it.” 

“Right,” your lips purse. “I… have that.” 

“...You’re coughin’ petals?” 

“Yes,”

“For who?” 

You look toward Piers, then, a silent plea in your eyes asking that he doesn’t make you say it out loud. Not when it’s so- so _obvious._ It seems like a lost cause for a split moment, because his expression never changes from the confused one he wears, a twitch in his brow and frown on his lips. But suddenly, his eyes widen in just slight recognition as his mouth opens. “Ah,” he says. “It’s me, isn’t it?”

You nod as you sigh, leaning farther into the couch, and when you do- there’s just a slight ease in the pressure on your chest. Just a touch. 

The pressure is replaced with a wave of anxiety, instead, because now you’ve done it. Confessed that you love Piers enough that you’re practically dying because of it, and he’s just sitting there, hands in his lap. Not saying anything. Why isn’t he saying anything? 

“A’ight, so…” Piers finally speaks up, raising a hand to rest on his chin. “I’m not sure exactly how this works. What happens now? To you?” His icy blue eyes flit up to look at yours. 

“Well, it depends…” You bite your lip. “It goes away on its own if- if you feel like I do. Or you don’t, and I get some odd surgery to remove it.” Or you don’t get the surgery and you die instead, but that’s a bit dramatic, so you don’t tell him that option. It seems Piers has heard all he needs to hear, though- getting up from his seat with a short nod. 

“That’s good, then,” he says, walking toward you. You eye him warily as he gets closer, unsure of what he’s trying to do or what game he’s playing as you scoot back against the couch cushions. Piers merely rolls his eyes with a huffy laugh, standing in front of you and reaching forward with his hand to cup your chin. “I fancy you too, so no need to stress anymore, right?” 

_What._

Suddenly, you’re confused. Is that really how it works?

“I- um- really?” 

Piers snorts. “Be real dickish of me to lie to you. Here, come on,” In a few fluid movements, Piers has propped you up and wrapped your arm around his shoulder as he helps you stand. You think it’s a bit comical that he’s got your arm on his shoulder because he’s much taller than you and now that you’re standing on your own two feet, you can honestly barely reach across his shoulders. He doesn’t seem deterred- he wraps an arm around you, too, and leads you through your house. 

Where is he taking you, anyway? 

“Uhm, Piers?” You look up at him and he offers you a small glance before he opens your bedroom door, taking you inside. “I’m- fine, really. You don’t have to do this,” whatever it is he’s doing, you’re still not sure, but you’re anxious that you’re putting him out or something like that. Though it’s not necessarily like Piers to do something he doesn’t want to do. 

“You’ve been havin’ nosebleeds and shit like that because of me, haven’t you?” Piers hums, helping you on your mattress and coaxing you to lay down on top of the covers. He sits at your side, idly fluffing your pillows before he finally meets your eye again. 

A small, out of character smile crosses his lips, and all you can do is stare dumbly. “Just let me take care of you for a bit.”

What’s that supposed to even mean? “Take care of me?” You splutter. 

You’re not even sick! Sure, you feel a little drab from vomiting every day, but now that- um- Piers likes you, it should be gone now. The heaviness of your chest should be quelled by the end of the day all by itself.

“Relax,” Piers murmured against your ear, his long fingers splaying out against your chest and keeping you against the mattress. “I’d say you’ve done enough running around. It’s been hard, yeah?” 

You slowly nod as you squirm under his hand. He smiles and his posture straightens from where he sits by your side. 

“Then relax a tad, mm?” Piers' hands wander across your torso, barely lifting the fabric of your shirt as they do. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

“Right,” you breathe out slowly, trying to do as he says as best you can. It’s hard, though, with nerves coursing through you, making your belly do awkward flip flops all the while.

Eventually, his fingers tug at the fabric of your shirt, pulling it up- up- up, until he reaches your chest and he stops. You breathe a little harder as he silently stares, his eyes raking across the skin of your belly and the tease of your chest. But he doesn’t go further than that, which somehow feels more riveting, though you can’t explain why. His hands are cool as they hold and drag down your skin. It’s like he’s experimenting- toying with the flesh, grabbing it at random parts, and just trying to see what it feels like. 

And then Piers is moving on, a knuckle hitting the button of your pants. His eyes meet yours again as your breath hitches, his head tilting and his lips just barely twitching upward as you nod silently at him. It’s so _quiet._

Quiet enough that the sound of him unclasping the button and pulling down the zipper of your pants is almost deafening. 

The drag of your jeans down your legs makes your skin tingle, Piers taking his time as he holds your ankle and lifts your knee so he can take the pants off. When you’re finally dressed down to just your shirt and underwear, Piers hums, lifting himself up from your side. You watch as he removes his jacket, nothing else, haphazardly tossing it next to your pants before he walks to the end of the mattress. 

“What’re you- oh!” 

Piers doesn’t let you finish as he leans forward, grabbing your ankles and pulling you down your bed. Your hands fly out to grab at his arms, staring up at him with wide eyes- and Piers just laughs. “Just figured I’d get a better view, is all.” 

Your head falls back down and you move one of your arms back to drape across your face. The heat across your cheeks has surely spread down your neck, and probably to other places that Piers can see, too- but oh, well. “Right…” 

“ _Right_ ,” Piers hums, hands raising up your naked legs to your knees as his thumb strokes the skin and he spreads your legs. “Don’t worry, doll. I’m planning to take good care of you.” 

You shiver as you feel the pressure of his fingers dragging across your sex through your underwear. 

“Wait,” you murmur, finally moving your arm away from your face as you look up at the man between your legs. His hand moves off of you swiftly and you reach for it, taking it in yours so you can pull him forward. “You haven’t even kissed me yet.” Your eyebrows furrow as you say it. 

Piers hums. He leans forward with you, getting just close enough where you can feel his breath on your lips- and then he tilts his head, kissing your jaw. Your eyes had closed in anticipation but they snapped open again at that. “Wh- hey!”

He snickers. “Sorry, you weren’t specific,” His hand rubs you through your underwear again and you groan. You’re just about to push him off- which wouldn’t be hard with how little he weighed- but in a swift movement, Piers’ mouth is on yours, his fingers going past the band of your underwear. 

You moan into his mouth, your hands finally moving to wrap around his shoulders as he kisses you deep, tongue messy and hot against yours. His fingers almost move in tandem with the movement of your kiss- making you squirm from under him at the pressure. The feeling of him all around you- his fingers _in you._

“What a beaut,” Piers lifts himself from your kiss, those ice blue eyes of his simmering with a heat that you’ve never seen before. “You’re doing great. Relax some more for me, yeah?” He kisses you again, fingers twisting, making you jolt. 

Yeah, you can... you can do that.


	26. Milo - Confession (holiday prompt)

Alright, time for the worst game of the year!

It’s Sonia’s Holiday party today, and everyone came decked out in festive wear as they brought food and cookies. Sonia promised she’d have several different games ready to play, one of them being a White Elephant event that you were honestly looking forward to. But the first thing she gathered everyone in the livingroom to do is to play the confession game. 

“You have to confess something you did this year, naughty or nice! And you can’t lie, don’t ruin it!” 

Those were the rules. Who even made this game? You’re pretty sure it was Sonia, despite her insisting that it was an actual game that families played during the holidays.

So, as if it were a game of truth or dare, everyone confessed to something they did that year, naughty or nice. Naughty was obviously the more enticing one to hear about, and Raihan started the trend as he admitted he ‘may or may not have sent Oleana a gag gift for her to find in her stocking’. He wouldn’t answer when everyone begged to know what it was, saying ‘oh, you’ll all know when she finds it.’ 

“Ok, ok, it’s Milo’s turn!” Nessa snorts in the midst of her laughter, pointing to the pink-haired farmer across from her on the couch. He nervously fidgets with his cup of eggnog, his cheeks a flushed color as he laughs. “What’ve you done this year?” 

“Well, uhmm,” Milo chunkles, biting his lip as he thinks. “I haven’t done it yet.” 

“What do you mean?” Sonia whines, “that’s not an answer!” 

“It’s going to be big, though!” He assures. And then as an added thought, “and nice… Nothing naughty for me.” There’s a collective groan through the livingroom but you’re not sure what everyone expected- Milo’s never been known for doing ‘bad’ stuff. 

That’s one of the reasons you like him. 

“I look forward to hearing it, Milo,” you tell him from your spot beside Nessa, giving him your best reassuring smile. He positively glows from your comment before he shyly dips his head, fidgeting with his cup again. It makes you quirk up your brow- you wonder why he reacted in such a way. 

“Thank you,” He laughs, “I hope you’ll like it.” 

Wait. Is the thing he’s doing going to be for you?

Before you can ask, he quickly carries on. “It’s Leon’s turn, I think!” And the party’s attention is successfully caught. And thank goodness for it! Milo discreetly wipes some sweat from his temple as Leon confesses his story- he almost gave your surprise away!


	27. Marnie - Snow Angels (holiday prompt)

“Come on, Marnie! It’s gonna be worth it, I promise!” 

“‘m not too sure about that…” 

You laugh as you wait for Marnie at the top of the hill, right outside Spikemuth and under a tree with its leaves and branches covered in snow. You’re both wearing clothes meant for the snow- but Marnie is struggling to waddle through the white fluff with how extra-prepared she is (thanks to Piers). Her arms stick out a bit by the volume of jackets she’s wearing and make you laugh when they move around stiffly as she walks. 

“You best not be laughing at me if you know what’s good for you,” Marnie glares, but her threat is downplayed by her pink button nose sniffing from the cold. 

“Of course not. Ok, are you ready?” You giggle and move a few steps from your friend who just raises an eyebrow at you, and before she can ask what you’re doing, you spread out your arms and let yourself fall backwards. 

The snow breaks your fall, flying out into the air as your back meets the ground and you laugh loudly as you hear Marnie gawk. “Snow angels, Marnie!” You tell her, beginning to move your legs and arms in the snow. “It’s the perfect weather for it!” 

“You aren’t honestly expecting me to do that, are you?” 

Looking up from your spot in the ground, you pout. “Maybe I am. Whoever comes up here will see our angels next to eachother… it won’t be the same if I have to do it myself!” 

Marnie rolls her eyes, “you’re a sap,” she says, but you can see the small smile on her cheeks. It’s only a few more moments before she sighs, and like you did before, she turns around and falls backward, landing right next to you as you cheer. “Yeah, Marnie!! Great form!” 

“You’re almost as bad as Team Yell,” She snorts, beginning to move her arms like you had earlier. Though she has more of a difficult time because of all the jackets, and after a second, she stops with a huff. “I hate these bloody jackets,” she sighs, apparently out of breath. “I’m way too hot.” 

“Take them off, then! Piers isn’t here to make a scene.” 

“...I suppose you’re right.” 

She lifts herself up into a sitting position, taking off two jackets before audibly sighing in relief as she moves back down onto the ground. “Much better. I like feeling the cold.” 

Your eyes sparkle as you smile. “I know you do.” 

Why else would you invite her to make snow angels?


	28. Leon - Mistletoe (holiday prompt)

Christmas was arguably the cheesiest time of year, and personally, you weren't the biggest fan. Tradition is tradition, sure, but you just preferred not to take part in it. You’ll see your loved ones, exchange gifts, but the tacky tales about stockings over the fire and mistletoe strung up overhead never really intrigued you. 

Leon was unsurprisingly the opposite. The man loved everything about the holiday and was enthusiastic about all the traditions. All traditions, that is, minus one- mistletoe.

You had been helping him decorate his place; putting up colorful lights on the walls and bells on his doors, and you helped him bring in his Christmas tree as well. Though Leon instructed you specifically to not decorate the tree yet. He wanted to wait until Hop was around during the upcoming party to do that. 

As you decorated, though, you noticed one thing missing. 

“Don’t you have mistletoe?” You ask him as you sort through his boxes of decorations. When you look up, a few more strings of lights in your hands, you notice how Leon has frozen up in his doorway. His eyes were wide like a Sawsbuck in headlights. 

“Mistletoe?” Leon coughs when he notices you’re looking at him strangely, kicking himself into gear as he laughs and scratches the back of his head. “Nah, mate, why would I need one of those?” 

“Well, I just thought,” you shrug and look around his apartment. “You have basically everything else. You’re not planning to get some kissing action this year?” You tease him as you raise an eyebrow, but decide to drop the subject as you go back to rummaging through his boxes. 

Apparently, Leon doesn't realize that you honestly don't care if he doesn't own mistletoe because he scrambles. “No! I mean, I’d be fine with it, but it’s just me here. Well, us. Right now. It’s just us, so it would be weird if there were some if it was just- destined to..." He trails off and looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed. "Right?”

Your face scrunches up as you look at him from over your shoulder. What was he even going on about? 

“Plus, Hop. You know, Hop is an awkward kid. Big ol’ crush on the, uh- the Champion. I don’t want to make it awkward when they’re both here.” 

“Right,” you drawl out, disbelief heavy in your tone. Leon’s shoulders jump up and his face is endearingly red as he shuffles his festive sock-clad feet on the carpet. 

“What! Why are you so curious?” 

“Leon.” Standing up from the box, you place your hands on your hips and give him a look. This seems to shut him up as he closes his mouth, lips sealed tightly and eyebrows still furrowed in either embarrassment or frustration. You amusedly huff through your nose as you stare- cogs are turning in your brain, trying to think if what you’re about to do is a good decision or not- but maybe you can blame it on the season if it goes wrong. 

Taking long, confident strides forward, you stand in front of Leon and cup his jaw in one hand as you lean in and give him a brief, sweet kiss on the lips. 

  
When you pull away, Leon’s golden eyes are staring holes into your head, eyebrows high up on his forehead. You almost laugh at how red his cheeks are, too- he certainly is making good competition for Santa Claus at this point. “Wh-” he splutters. “What was  _ that _ ?” 

“Usually you close your eyes when someone kisses you,” you amusedly curl your lips as you lean away. “You were acting so weird about it. Figured I’d kiss you anyway and see what happens.” Your eyes run up and down his body and you teasingly hum as you place a hand on your chin and contemplate. “I get it. You don’t want everyone to see the Great Leon so flustered like this, right? It’ll be our secret, then.” 

Leon’s expression slowly shifts as he continues to stare at you- shifting from utter disbelief to skepticism, but slowly, he nods and squints his eyes at you. “Right.” He says. “Okay.” His eyes dart around the room, back to you, and then back around the room again before he clears his throat. “Yeah, our secret.” 

You laugh when he turns on his heel and then runs into his own wall before heading into the kitchen. The fridge opens loudly, bottles scattering from the fridge door and he curses when something falls. You watch him all the while before you ultimately decide that you might sneak a mistletoe into his party. 

Cheesy as the tradition is, you’d love to see him fluster like that again. 


End file.
